Fiction • Issue Eight • Issue Eight Fiction.
December 1, 2019
By Mori Shige. Translated by Marissa Skeels. Mori Shige (1880-1938) was a university-educated, headstrong feminist writer from...
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2019 HNSA Short Story Contest • Fiction • Issue Eight • Issue Eight Fiction.
by Christina King. Winner of the HNSA 2019 Short Story Contest Just fuzz. Like the fur of a sewer rat. She ran her hand over her head...
by Julie Parry The kitchen door was slightly ajar. I bobbed gingerly from side to side, squinting into the sliver of light. I was no...
Issue Eight • Issue Eight Reviews • Reviews
Reviewed by Dr Wendy J. Dunn. “… She went to bed and dreamed she was lying in a garden. It was night time, the moon a glowing...
2019 HNSA Short Story Contest • Fiction • Issue Eight Fiction.
by Lou Greene. Commended story in the 2019 HNSA short story contest. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop, my mother used to say. I...
By Lauren O’Connell ’By god! It’s bees!’ The spyglass slipped from my fingers and rolled along the deck, its rumble in...
Issue Eight • Issue Eight Poetry • Poetry
By Anna Forsyth Someone slides open a drawer carefully her gloved hands steady from practice. Hector’s locked box was at the...
By Devika Brendon Like a marmoset With those gripping fingers Surprising strength Stretched out full length Ears like a headset How...
By Jill Jones What remains of us at night The weight of respiration the insects we swallow the division of thought into chemical...
By Hélène Cardona. Good night, the mellifluous whisper catches me like a vine, wraps itself around my will. I stare at violet eyes,...
By Les Wicks I saw my UFO, 1969. Gurus, revolution. Racial & sexual equality stop the damned wars while we played with that...
by Shona Blake I am a dark one And flow with the dark river The place of my beginning I came fast The river was in a hurry that day But my...
By Liana Joy Christensen Previously published in Veils, Halos and Shackles: International Poetry on the Oppression and Empowerment...
By Drucilla Wall I know a thing or two about cats, and that scrawny black skeleton with dirty socks, curled in an empty flower pot...
Reviewed by Angela Wauchop “‘That is not true. I care about you, Céline. I care about the fact that my wife prostitutes herself for...
By Les Wicks Where I grew up there was respect for the uniform. No one ever killed in them. Armed with timetables the wise station...
By Debbie Lim Vampyroteuthis infernalis Literally, from hell. Belling the vast dark with a cape of rusted tentacles. Dante...
by Amanda Pearson We were told the world was ending. My parents, in their naivety, decided a picnic was the only way to celebrate...
By Jill Jones. Thursday was full moon more than silvery when clouds parted life is short days are long you...
By Owen Bullock As the night, as the Chapel when you thought it housed a ghost. As the hedge where he lurked to scare you. Where the...
By Marilyn Humbert where mist blurs men and trees a call sharp as a shard cracks the valley breaking morning rituals I listen...
2019 HNSA Short Story Contest • Fiction • Issue Eight Fiction. • Uncategorised
by Dell Brand. Commended story in the 2019 HNSA short story contest. Boney sat hunched over the wheel, clunking along slowly over the...
By Daragh Byrne In memory of Des Byrne You would find him on a wet November Wednesday, sideways rain in New Abbey Filling the...
By J.W. Burns Like some animal you get tired of your skin, want to sink to the bottom and just push life through the mud. But...
By Angela T. Carr I am not born. Doctors gas my mother and she baulks. Trees creep in, snake the delivery room. She wanders out of...
Interviews • Issue Eight • Issue Eight Interviews
by Nik Shone. About the artist: Shona Blake is a singer/songwriter/writer based on the west coast of Ireland. Her thoughtful prose has a...
By Sandra Renew the revolution of 1863 Singer sewing machines and Butterick/Mc Calls patterns collected in Lever arch files ...
By Owen Bullock Clarence and Marion. The steep path to the door. The view of a distant ocean and near clay tips. High tea spread to...
by Eden van Leeuwen Jumping up and down on the roof the metal banging in my ears the anthem to my tale. Sweat is blooming on my...
By Eamonn Wall Today through field glasses I observe one small flock of red-winged blackbirds busy about the Audubon Center, the...
