“So crawls a toad on his belly into a bed of flowers.” —Jean Paul, tr. Charles T. Brooks […]
Category Archive: fiction
TODAY, AT THE DUMP, the world is in the bin: a classroom globe, tossed into TV & MONITORS, […]
The Tutor Arrives There is a bowl of fruit and a glass of still water arranged neatly on […]
I’m old in this house the one we shared, old and baffled, liver searing on the stove, and […]
Interminably tangled, the escalators wove themselves into a vast network, a great steel octopode either in conflict with […]
Lying on his back, a sandal on, the other foot is pink and bare and still. There are […]
Moss woke at 6am to the din of pots clattering in the kitchen below. The dog scratched urgently […]
I was only four minutes late, but Fran was already sat down, a beer in one hand, a […]
Most six o’clocks I’m still in the van. Winding round the back roads, just leaving a job, leaving […]
One: The desert isn’t a desert. Two: The desert is and is not empty. Three: Emptiness is as […]
minor literature[s] 