With fork and knife, thus armed he watched as she began to peel back the skin of the plaice with a delicate precision until its white flesh glistened, perfectly pearlescent, ...
The first thing the new neighbours do is erect a tall fence round their garden
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The house isn’t half empty without you.
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A wild interview with a national icon.
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The audience members are on their feet, applauding with categorical enthusiasm.
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Immerse yourself in these beautiful stories from our emerging writers who have been nominated for the PEN/Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers competition!
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I know that my husband never knew anyone like Gretel or Hansel. His life was just different to mine, that’s all.
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Sooner or later, everyone has to hear their voice for the first time.
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When he woke, the house was still and flat. Like a sheet of paper.
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I call you again and hear nothing back. I cross through swirling motes caught in greenish rays, over the carpet that I swear squelches under my shoes, towards the bedrooms ...
If I call you, you’ll say, hello, I’ll say, hi mum, it’s me, Catherine, then you’ll hang up.
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Would a more loving partner have pieced the clues together? Should I have known? It seemed so obvious now.
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One day, he says, he’ll ride over the top of the western peak and never come back.
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For weeks, even months, after the gig, he remembered that feeling, could cling to it every now and then even as it faded or slipped from his grasp. He would ...
I’ve tried to squelch that terror, to chase it deep inside me so that the watchers might turn away, but the moment of the bargain always wrenches it forth again.
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“Sometimes you think you know people but you don’t.”
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No, I didn’t know Trevor all that well, but, you know, I saw him around.
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He’d said I was part-seagull, and he was too.
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“I always wanted to build a house beside the lake with her. It would’ve been a place where we could grow old and fat together and be buried in the ...
Over the clatter of tea things she pursued me humming Wagner and speaking of Crawford.
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