Fiction
Harry and Willyam
Ah’m sick tae f**kin’ death ae hearin’ aboot aw thess Harry and Willyam pish. Ah’ve bin puttin’ up wi’ their s***e since they were weans an iss away’s thah same f**kin story. Ah mind wance [more…]
DH
Fiction
Eternal Drudgery
Ostensibly, it appeared to be a significant improvement on Larkin’s usual choice of hostelry. Outside, there was no gaggle of wizened, gimlet-eyed daytime drinkers sucking on Superkings and grunting incomprehensibly at one another. There was [more…]
Fiction
The Making of a Mercenary
This was, thought Merritt, absolutely bloody typical of Larkin. The place was a dizzying carousel of gigantic, deafening televisions blaring out conflicting commentaries on horse racing and football, the bleeping and blinking of garish slot [more…]
Fiction
Die Straße
IT looked like it might once have been a bank. But then again it could just as easily have been a particularly upmarket haberdashery store back in the days of bone tape measures and black [more…]
Arts
A Message from Marianna
Hi, I’m Marianna Spring! I’m 24! I’m the BBC’s specialist misinformation reporter. You may recognise my wide-eyed, 24-year-old face from The One Show, BBC News Online, BBC Radio 4, pictures I post of myself having [more…]
Literature
Lords and Ladies, Part Five
‘Pull those ropes tighter, damn your eyes,’ raved Boggart, stalking feverishly up and down in front of the contenders, ‘I want this net to be as taut as a camel’s arse in a sandstorm.’ A [more…]
Literature
Lords and Ladies, Part Four
Boggart paced deliberately back and forth in front of ginger bigfoot, birthmark Joe and trembling Theresa, peering coldly into their eyes at each pass. Perspiration oozed from the collar of his scabious headdress as he [more…]
Biography
Lords and Ladies, Part Three
Thresher sullenly pushed a broom across the dining room floor, broken crockery and shards of glass clinking as he shuffled along. Tiny fragments and splinters littered every nook and cranny, glinting and winking under cabinets [more…]
Biography
Jeremy and Seumas – Resurrection
Slouching wearily in an uncomfortable wooden chair, Seumas Milne stared vacantly at the faded orange Formica clock on the kitchen wall. It read three thirty two. It had read three thirty two since the year [more…]