By Alex Oliver Susurrating whispers kneel told, black laced and sobbing Black coach and six trots feather-bold and janglebrass: a late bride of sorrows, a grim groom’s last gasp A glass of sand toasts the unslaked roses wreathed in a grinning halo Death-head colours in savage salute Stare a dead-pecked gaze with gritted teeth - in the Shroud of the Monkey sheet-wound, linen-folded Pose in repose Pucker-sucked, under the tongue a pebble hides in the maw above double-crossed fi

By Yati Ramli They said it was smart. It found its target in the dark. That’s what makes it clever. The target was a building with a name like Hope Clinic or Something Elementary - details pending verification. The screen showed a white square breathing in crosshairs. A video game with better funding. “Minimal collateral,” the spokesperson said, as if grief can be itemised. The bomb did its job. Clean. Surgical. Very professional. The crater was symmetrical. The children were

By Megan Benham Student midwife - last call of the day. She must regret being sent my way; she called and greeted with “Congratulations!” Too late for calls and confirmations. Blood test done after a case of spotting, told that bad luck had come a-knocking. My patient file had not yet updated, so instead of condolence, I was congratulated. For a moment I think it was just a mistake, or it’s all a bad dream and I’m about to wake. Instead, she doesn't know what to say. All the