1st Place: ‘Bullaun’ by Dúnlaith Bird

You have a bullaun in the small of your back, a smooth hollow of soft, scarred skin. Theytook out one of your vertebrae when you were a baby so that you could walk, and it left a holethat a stone could spin in, terrible and tender to look at. An inverted peach, a peach-pit, blush-pink.Continue reading “1st Place: ‘Bullaun’ by Dúnlaith Bird”

Runner Up: ‘The Doll Father’ by Dara Yen Elerath

father My daughter stitched me from cloth; she used a thumbtack for a nose and yarn for arms. Then she abandoned me in this closet. Outside the door she watches screens all night and does not see how my button eyes gleam here in the dark. If only she had given me hands instead ofContinue reading “Runner Up: ‘The Doll Father’ by Dara Yen Elerath”

Runner Up: ‘Might’ by Alex Durac

There were boats, I think. I can’t remember. I remember seeing one or two during theday, peering through the haze like sleepy, waking eyes. Fuzzy. In my mind they’re likemirages, covered in clouds and dark sea mist. I’m not really sure how much I’m imaginingthem, though. There may have been none at all. There wereContinue reading “Runner Up: ‘Might’ by Alex Durac”

1st Place: ‘You and I’ by Niamh Busby

I saw you on the train yesterday.  I haven’t seen you since junior school; since GCSEs and the endless clouds of Linx and stifling assembly halls. Maybe that’s why it took me so long to recognise you, to actually see you. Ten years can change people in many ways but you more than most, youContinue reading “1st Place: ‘You and I’ by Niamh Busby”

2nd Place: ‘When The Mugs Don’t Match’ by Abbie White

There was something extra-terrestrial about the blue in his veins and the unsymmetrical bruising of his hand. As a child it made me squeamish, awaiting his papery skin to pucker above the cobalt seams and sprout an inky blue that would stain our hands. As the years stubbed out the futuristic blue of his bloodContinue reading “2nd Place: ‘When The Mugs Don’t Match’ by Abbie White”

3rd Place: ‘War’ by Mary Coleman

Galway’s pavements were melting. 99s in every hand and the air was thick with the smell of factor 50. Everyone was diving from the Blackrock tower, building sandcastles and talking about football. Everyone except me. It had been a few weeks since I’d had contact from any of the lads. And it would be aContinue reading “3rd Place: ‘War’ by Mary Coleman”

Submissions Now Open!

Louder for the people in the back: SUBMISSIONS FOR ISSUE VII ARE NOW… OPEN! We are looking for short stories, flash fiction, creative nonfiction, all based on the theme of IDENTITY. As a journal specifically geared towards new voices, we especially encourage work from previously unpublished writers who feel it is their time to beContinue reading “Submissions Now Open!”