JAY

“I remember her white trainers being the last thing to disappear into the black night. Tap, tap, tap as she ran.”

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FICTION: Cycles

The worst calls often begin with an appeal for empathy, a last-ditch attempt by the caller to grab on to any spark of…

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FICTION: BLUEBOTTLES

    Her name is Ida, and even her tears are beautiful. With fingers outstretched I catch them peeling across her cheeks, little…

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‘The Usher’

It’s a hot, muggy summer afternoon, the kind of day where the pollen hangs thick in the air and the sun beats down…

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