Monthly Archives: August 2016

The Big Dig

It was day three of The Big Dig. Most of us hadn’t a clue what we dug up. Old Drew helped us name stuff. “That’s a cigarette lighter,” he’d say. Or “That’s a lecky fire.” Not that he made us … Continue reading

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Friendly

“Friendlies, can I help you?” said Bernice. A youthful sigh and then, “No. Nobody can.” “Well, I’m here to listen, anyway.” “You won’t want to,” said with another sigh. “Well, go ahead anyway. And if you don’t want to talk … Continue reading

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The Melting World

‘Did God who made the lamb make thee?’— William Blake. Mikey’s an awful long time. Hope the kids are safe. “Don’t fret, Sally. I’ll go straight there, straight back, I promise.” But that was six hours ago. Outside, the rain … Continue reading

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Look, it’s not rocket science. 

  During the 1940s and early 50s, food was rationed. People ate a lot healthier. When rationing stopped, everyone binged. Then wages went up. Everyone binged. We joined the European Community, so more choice was available. Everyone binged. (Presumably, if … Continue reading

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Weedkiller and Icing Sugar

  “Have you ever killed anyone, Clare?” said Mark one day on the way back from Sunday school. I looked down and examined the scuff marks on my pink Jumping Jacks Mummy bought me the day before. “Nope,” I said, … Continue reading

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These Wings Are Not For Flying.

By Zoë Nightingale A mouse squeezing through a sandpaper tube, my knuckles raw and on fire, I force, tear-stung eyes apart to drink in the next horror; the next whiplash to my raw nerve-ends. It watches dispassionately as I gasp … Continue reading

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