Poetry

VE Day

By Liz Kay At Number Nine Mary is humming, twisting bunting. Her fuzzing hands wave to   Number Ten where Charlie and Steve are leaving for their daily cycle. On Thursday evening, they had forgotten [… read more ]

Fiction

Compost Heap

By Sue Harper Sarah’s partner remarked: ‘I do hope someone cooks dinner.’ That seemed rather a passive-aggressive formulation, Sarah thought. Why not ask her outright? After all, she did it every single day. ‘Will you [… read more ]