Non-native English Creative Writing Magazine
In the crevices of the wall I’m barely holding onto life The crack where I live It has neither flourished…
A CALL TO ALMS The conversations at the office that morning, quite naturally, swirled around the letters of increment and…
‘Cheshire Cats don’t exist,’ I try desperately to explain to Maggie as she lies awake on my arm almost three…
Primero, Manhattan Me sentenciaron a veinte años de aburrimiento Leonard sabe a qué me refiero Una condena a la irrelevancia…
‘Graphite!’ exclaims the sharp-suited Polish businessman sat opposite me, and slaps his knees, pleased at remembering the word. ‘We used…
Misplaced Confidence I think it’s time we remembered that we never could predict the futurethat our well-laid plans were nothing…
Aimee S. Green holds an MA in Creative Writing from the University of Birmingham and still lives in the city.…
POST-MORTEM An Ambassador in rigor mortis,a Contessa awaiting decent burial,a Matador charred by arsonon a riot’s funeral pyre,a Gypsy spilling…
Connection A red kite traces a lazy spiral Across a honeycomb of houses Rows and rows of chipped and fading…
In the crevices of the wall I’m barely holding onto life The crack where I live It has neither flourished…
I’ve never really felt qualified enough to talk ‘art criticism’. For the most part, I don’t really know what…
Two dollar cover band, typical on a Friday night. We could have gone to the wine garden in the alley.…
