Author: storgy

Sian Evans: Behind Closed Doors!

Outstretched arm, twisted wrist and flayed fingers, taut, postured and poised. Quivering. My lover hovering and then…then the…d-descent of plush pads on…on… I arch.  I ache.  I am. I’m an anarchist under attack. Warm breath fluttering over my breast like a thousand dragonfly wings, beating and battering until my nipple is puckered and tight.  Torturous

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Gareth Watkins: [Sayonara]

There are twenty-seven people with me on the bus ride to the Tōjinbō Cliffs. According to a Japanese government white paper published earlier this year one in five will seriously consider suicide in their lifetimes. I do the math: Five-point-four people on this bus. Thirty-four-point-eight in every one hundred thousand will go through with it,

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Luned DeSimon: Tinker

Are you all very ready? Well then. Now, this is a story about your great-grandmother.  My grandmother.  Now, do you remember her? Of course you do! Not even a teensy bit? Joe? You’re the oldest….oh! Well, I can tell you exactly what she was like, because I’ll never, ever forget her. She was a tall,

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Jack Fisher: Falling

The wind changes. Stings your face with rain. You stop and turn away, then decide no. You want to face it. Yanking the drawstrings on your anorak, you pull the hood tighter around your head. And again, put one foot in front of the other. Continue to fight your way up the slope. The rainwater

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Heather Stewart: Keeling Cottage!

Through the cocoon of my blanket, through the holes in my moth-eaten drapes, through the film of grey dirt on my window, through the lopsided posts of the back fence, I can see the railway line. The track lies not ten feet from the house, three from the end of my garden; it sits up

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Lee Hamblin: [Lipstick]

I will deny it of course, but in truth, my focus is definitely on the back of his head, and not the treble twenty of the dartboard hanging on the back of the closet door. I nudge my heel up against the old shoebox acting as a makeshift oche, squeeze my eyes tight and draw

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Edmund Krikorian: The Regime

The alarm beeps at 6 in the morning. Mark gets out of bed quickly, knowing that if he doesn’t get out of bed in the next five seconds, he’ll find a reason to stay. The heating has packed up in his flat, and the cold whips at his naked body. He flicks on the light

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Sally-Anne Wilkinson: The Kiss

In this moment, rising out of everything, it’s our first kiss I remember. To me, it’s far clearer than where we met or what we wore – though that’s something we argued about regularly. You said you wore green, but I’m certain you wore blue. And our first meeting? You were on the bench in

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Benjamin Hewitt: My Best Friend is a Devil!

All around me are working class folk devils.  I am a god-fearing man now, but I have ended up here again. The audacity of my captors is incredible. They storm my cell while I pray, to assault me and provoke a reaction. They drag me into the corridor and pin me down. One of the

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Anthony Self: Harry Goes To Hell

Apparently there’s a polish proverb that states ‘When a man hurries, the devil smiles.’ I know this to be false. The Devil, or Horatio Longbottom, as he prefers to be called, is a patient individual. For a fallen angel that has spent eternity as the Commander-In-Chief of Hell, he’s mastered the art of placidity. He

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