By Ruth Hutton Your house loomed above my garden, Your dead, wolf eyes stalked me through the windows. Even in sunlight, your house was dark. Flowers flailed, like leftover innards. You invited me in with a misleading humour and down to earthiness that I admired. Charisma oozing, impeccable chitchat, offering stories of a shared life. A vile, handsome couple. The crunch - we work with kids. I was prey from the outset. We live upstairs in this house. Sunday afternoon drinks. M

By Elliot Chester “Hi, how’re you?” the waitress asks, assuming I’m ok. “Hello, I’m good,” is what she thinks I’m really going to say. “I don’t indulge in pleasantries, nor superficial shit.” She clicks her pen, and flicks her hair, then blushes, just a bit. “I speak my mind, that’s what I’ve learnt, I’ll state just how I feel. You’re mercilessly unprepared to listen to my spiel. I suffer from insomnia, my eyes are always sore, ‘cos every night I peel figmental shadows off th

By Andriana Minou They say The Sphinx was a giant mosquito Sucking the peasants’ blood all night Digesting it all day. Oedipus had a little think There was no swatter Big enough to get her. Enter Tiresias The blind prophet With his legendary breasts – aka Mr National Boobs – Whispering in Oedipus’ ear. Oedipus got so horny He forgot his own name. He ran to his mama And she slept with him Like any good old mama Rescuing him from Mr National Boobs’ claws. But in the morning Oed