Culture

By Anonymous (not verified) , 24 May, 2025
The Occupant
It took a few days for Martha to notice the little silver hatchback. People were always leaving their cars or trailers in the dead-end beside the small reserve, sometimes for weeks, or dumping rubbish in the small hours of the morning, brazen under cover of darkness. Martha, who lived opposite, would wake to see a cheap broken cupboard or a pile of worn tyres or an old fan, say, lying like a silvery corpse in the grass.
By Anonymous (not verified) , 19 April, 2025
Boots
It’s pizza Friday and Saoirse won’t be here. The neighbours are coming, so we need to double the batch of dough. Dad says there are four of us and three of them after Mum comes home. But actually not, because Saoirse won’t be here. There are seven pieces of dough. Dad says there will be one piece of dough left. “Such a waste,” he says, as the bin drawer rolls to a close. Suddenly Saoirse walks down the stairs in Mum’s red boots.