by Ann Boaden It always began in brightness. He was home again, and a boy, and he and Amanda were in Narrow Lane, behind the house. The sea singing a long way off, like a sea in a shell. Mandy’s hand in his. Just the two of them, the beautiful…
Recent Writing
At the Hop
by William Heath After the game there is alwaysa soc hop in the gym: we dancethe stroll, the funky slop, the jitterbug,the bunny-hop, and still find time to twist and shout. Bill Halley, a kisscurl on his forehead, starts us allrocking around the clock, girls wettheir pants screaming at a…
Dollhouse
by Lee Patton “Annalise! Dinner’s getting cold!” her mother’s voice shot upstairs, breaking through the faint, droning hum of the lamp nearby. Unresponsive, Annalise sat motionless, comatose, in front of the easel, her blank stare rivaled only by the canvas languishing in front of her. Her dark green eyes glazed…