Bison Hill – Jimmi Campkin

June is the worst month.  None of the fresh optimism of spring, the frenetic blustery energy of July or the languidly horizontal effortlessness of heavy, lazy August.  June doesn’t smell… unlike moist Autumn with her crispy leaves decaying under our feet, the clingy humid soil covering our skin like an overly affectionate friend.  June is …

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Wilted Flowers – S. K. Nicholas

As a child, my defining moment was seeing Morrissey swinging a bunch of wilted flowers around on TV; a modern god on Top of the Pops with a quiff too magnificent to resist. Nothing’s ever touched this thrill. It’s been downhill ever since. In the reflections of a rippling puddle down the street after work, …

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The Night Will Be Hard – Jimmi Campkin

* Sophie walks towards me and puts down the plastic can of gasoline, the grass yellowing around it like a sickly halo.  Her tight blond curls dance to Francis, her pet lizard roaming freely across her scalp, peeking down the nape of her neck and onto her shoulder.  Francis and me have this ‘thing’, and even …

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