By: Anthony Ward Tom stood attentively in front of the mirror, his eyes racing over the image portrayed within. He looked sideways at his reflection from the right, then to the left, then centred his gaze as he stroked his…
By Shaik Asad This man who’s part of my secret, well, let’s not worry about his name. Not like I see any chance of you dropping in my village, whose name too I choose not to disclose, but a secret…
By: Samya Jayachandran Mira always believed she was the best writer in the room. Not in the loud, spotlight-hungry way. She never bragged or waved her stories around like banners. But there was a quiet knowing in her, a hum…
By: Victor Hale He came out of the shower, water still clinging to his skin, and sat in front of the monitor. The screen lit up his face before anything else did. He opened a game. It loaded. He played….
By: Dmitriy Kogan Yes, I came from a privileged background, I admit. But I never wasted the opportunities I was given. I was grateful for everything that my parents did for me. In the first two years I was at…
By: Syed Nahida Anjum REALIZATIONS AND FRUSTATIONS The faint rainbow dyed beams revealed a geometrically precise face supporting tiny black brushstrokes created by unsteady, wavering artistic lashes. The fragile brittle glass quivered with every touch with the turquoise sink. Clink,…
By Luccian Layth Drink: Black Coffee I chose the café because something in me had failed to leave it. The street outside held a cold that did not insist. It settled instead — into fabric, into the narrow space between…
By George Oliver We met at the movies. At the pictures, as my grandpa says. At the cinema. At a cinema. Specifically: the BFI. The British Film Institute. Belvedere Road, South Bank, London, SE1 8XT. We were at the…
By: Tah Asongwed That evening the arguments slowly ran out of breath. Not because the villagers had agreed. Villagers rarely agree in a single day. But the sun had slipped behind the hills, and darkness, like a patient elder, had…
By: Don Tassone I’d been walking for about a mile on the Binghamton Trail alongside the Chenango River when I came to a bench and decided to rest for a moment. A middle-aged man, older than me, was…