Fiction | Quiet Mountain by Sally Jubb
They got on at Vico Equense. The carriage was almost full, but the two of them managed to squeeze into a seat diagonally opposite,...
Fiction | The Old Men Who Row Boats by David Joseph
In Madrid, not far from the great museums that line the streets, old men row boats in the morning hours at Retiro Park. These...
Fiction | About You by Marjorie Main
Early on a Saturday morning in October I met Vivian at Liverpool Street Station. Stevie had a painting in an exhibition opening that night,...
Fiction | Beloved by Roger Raynal
That morning, when Ryoji woke up, fired from sleep by a strident, but usual sound, he refrained from opening his eyes. He wanted to...
Fiction | We Walk to Dissect by Laura Davis
There are bulls everywhere, a mass of black parading around the fence. The grass is yellower where their feet trample, the farmland is a...
Fiction | The Sinners’ Corner by Mark Sadler
I returned to work on a dismal Tuesday morning, emerging from the main entrance of London, Fenchurch Street, railway station under opaque grey skies....
Fiction | Sylvia Plath Watches Us Sleep, But We Don’t Mind...
Sylvia Plath Watched Us Sleep, But We Don't Mind was the third prize winner in our Short Story Competition 2017.
We’ve been married three years...
Fiction | Mr. Cahill by William Roberts
The little party wandered slowly along the rows of the hillside garden, pausing in the warm afternoon Northern California sun to examine one vegetable...
Fiction | Asma by Dur e Aziz Amna
Dur e Aziz Amna received second prize in our Short Story Competition 2017.
The year Asma moved in with us, we were living in a two-family...
Fiction | Crete by Cameron Stewart
‘So. What do we want today?’
I’m sitting in my local barbers chair, caped up like a clown - my head bulging through the top...
Fiction | The Arrangement by Jennifer Johnson
There’s someone in the kitchen. I hear the kettle being filled. I look at the clock, it’s not yet seven, he’s up early. He...
Fiction | The Golden Eel by Neil Burns
It had been twenty years since they last met. Thirty eight year old Eoghan O’Dullach was nervous inside; and in his brain he was...
Fiction | The Root of it All by Charlotte Newman
Pavements slick from rain and a market at night, risen dripping from the oily roads like a brand new continent. Brunch alongside nails alongside...
Fiction | An Actor in the Wings: Notes (1980 – 2009)...
Charles
I could see him from beside the door. He was surrounded by men in suits, pointing at the ceiling, looking at their drinks or...
Fiction | Diasporic Guilt by Mohamed Keshavjee
‘Shoeshine, sir?’ asked the young lad with a shoeshine box in his hand, as I peered into the window of a shop in New...
The e-Shadow by Rhys Timson
It was three weeks into Kurt’s big adventure that his digital self was stolen. Before that, everything had been going to plan. He’d been...
Fascicle 41 by Anna McGrail
Winner of The London Magazine Short Story Competition 2015.
Sometime between 1858 and 1864, Emily Dickinson embarked upon her self-publishing career. She copied out in...
The Rain Horse by Ted Hughes
Ted Hughes
The Rain Horse
As the young man came over the hill the first thin blowing of rain met him. He turned his coat-collar up...
The Rat by Hannah Lowe
The landlady watches herself in the living room mirror, phone held to her ear. In the blurred morning light her face looks young again,...
Next Boat from Douala by William Boyd
From The London Magazine Stories 11, 1979
Then the brothel was raided. Christ, he’d only gone down to Spinoza’s to confront Patience with her handiwork. She hadn’t...
Into the Blue by Alison Lock
A bee is trapped behind the curtains––its silhouette circles the head of a printed flower. Edith pulls her arm free of the tightly tucked...
Blessed Is the Road On Which You Are Travelling Today by...
You had never heard of the word until an hour ago, but already your designers are as familiar with the concept as they are...
The Golden Hour by Frances Gapper
That afternoon was a particularly trying one for Mary. Having changed her mother’s incontinence pad and left her on the sofa watching ‘Homes under...
Flowers by Mark Godfrey
She communicates through flowers. Daffodils are for happiness, carnations for sadness, snowdrops mean hope and tulips stand for strength. She saves dahlias for saints’...