by Tobias Thornes ‘Global warming? There ain’t no such thing! Didn’t y’ hear? That’s just a conspiracy cooked up by the Chinese. An’ the leftists. You’re a leftist, ain’t ye? Now you listen to me, mister. You leave all that clap-trap out o’ here. We’re done with commies, we’re done with Obama, now we’re goanna […]
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by Amanda Higgin Xanda and I sit in armchairs, chatting across a café table as the rain drizzles down the window beside us. The café is humid from drying coats, but we have been here long enough to have warmed up. “I’ve finally gotten into Hamilton,” I offer in a momentary quiet. “Congratulations!” Xanda smiles. […]
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by Alex Waygood
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by Jenny Potter It’s 5:15pm and we’re standing amongst rows of records, reeling in the late-summer-evening humidity and pretending to browse through DVDs. There are perhaps a dozen people scattered throughout the shop in the same state of pretence. Approximately twenty minutes later, Leftwich appears and we form a misshapen semi-circle around the corner where […]
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by Lucy Mellor “Looked in the mirror, I don’t know who I am anymore; The face is familiar, but the eyes, The eyes give it all away” -James, Out to Get You Everything I see touches me, and changes me in a million minute ways and refuses to let me be the same. No matter […]
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by Charlie Willis Michael McManus had a way of doing things. He would get up at six minutes past eight o’clock no matter whether it were a Sunday or his birthday or a cold day in the depths of January. Sometimes, depending on the time of year of course, this meant that he was […]
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A pdf of the print version of Issue #13 – Renewal – can be downloaded here: Issue #13 – Renewal
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by Callista McLaughlin
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by Aidan Chivers As the heat of our idyllic nineteenth summer draws to its close, and gives out its final surge of warmth in a late September burst, it is inevitable that we should gather at the bar which featured so prominently in our last few years of school. Full of excitable, childish memories and […]
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by Tobias Thornes Forgive me if I begin at the end. For the end is near, now: I can feel it in my bones. These my eyes, which looked upon so many of the world’s ancient wonders, have grown dim – like those wonders themselves, which one by one went out, melting like stars before […]
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by Christy Callaway-Gale It’s Sunday. Last Sunday. My entire bedroom is in our car, there’s a bike wheel next to my head and I have that unsettled, excited feeling as spires emerge overhead. Oriel helpers with their colourful t-shirts offer to carry my bags, both my parents cry as they say goodbye to me and […]
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by Tom Davy To the first term’s autumnal fog. Tears tumble off marooned cheeks That peek into new rooms, new curtains, Parted like families. Then there’s the names that fizz Like molecules around the hall, A mahogany pit of reaction After reaction After reaction. We’re all playing potters, Clay bridges between ourselves Form like the […]
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The Poor Print 