Cityscape. Photograph Phil Hall by Amal Chatterjee When I was a child, I dreamed of aeroplanes, great silver birds crossing continents and oceans, I watched their thin vapour trails draw and spread as they made their way from distant cities to others yet more distant. But now the novelty has…
Category: Short story
Bookshop
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The Bookshop
Immeuble à Boulogne-Billancourt. Photograph Nozav, Public Domain by Amal Chatterjee His mother has gone by the time he wakes up. Kicking the covers to the foot of the bed, he swings himself off. Even though he knows he is alone, he checks his shorts, pulls down his shirt. The habits of…
Art
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OF THE EARTH
by Thomas Gilbert Life’s fortunes take us down a trailThrough fog and wind and rain and hailBut sometimes sun and warmth and peacecome by to help us find release. Jamie, do you want to go sledding at the toboggan run this afternoon? Her dad asks her. Oh, yes. I’d love…
1980s
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My journey to the end of the Earth
Chichen Itza, Photo by Edgar Rodrigo, Pexels by Phil Hall . For most of the journey, I sat in a cramped seat on the long distance Estrella Blanca coach next to a secretary from Mexico City. It was a sweaty and close 36-hour drive. Occasionally, the bus stopped. We got…
Amal Chatterjee
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BIRTH
Photo by cottonbro studio, Pexels by AMAL CHATTERJEE I was born just then. Or must have been, the moment I appeared in the mist, the long flat surface disappearing into the distance. Concrete ground, cement and sand, firm. Thin iron bars set in a trench, wires whistling overhead. That must…
Canada
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The Broken Banker
Man in a Blue Suit, Photo by Nicola Barts Pexels by Charles Dean For me, writing is therapy. It’s comfort. Freedom. I can write about anything—everything. I can create, destroy, rebuild. I can make my characters laugh, cry, dream. It’s something I can’t always do in real life. Writing is…
Amal Chatterjee
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Hengshan Park
by Amal Chatterjee The windows shudder as another train roars past. Through the grey-streaked glass, he sees the city growing, cranes yellow against the sky, towering over the already giant blocks that have risen while he’s been at his desk. Or so it feels, each day stepping out into a…
Amal Chatterjee
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Seven times three
The Thinker by Rodin, photo Phil Hall by Amal Chatterjee In my childhood, art in its myriad forms involved perplexing encounters with the good, the worthy and, no doubt, the banal and ridiculous. I had no way of telling them apart, I possessed no judgement. I consumed – or rather,…
Bereavement
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Ordinary Pain
Photo by Vijay Sadasivani, Pexels by Lucy Hall It had been over a year. That was what James was thinking as he wound his way through the plastic bollards. He ignored the street worker who was yelling at him, one hand on his head and the other outstretched, fingers spread…
Fiction
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The Mosque of Timna by Tina Bexson
photo Tina Bexson David Skinner positioned his rifle between two jagged edges of lilac quartz rock and concentrated on calculating the lines of fire on a point below him. He had rec-ed this exact spot each day for the last two weeks, studying the lay of the land, the position…
Amal Chatterjee
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Amal Chatterjee: The Return
Pexels, Photo by Alex P Bright black tarmac and the tang of tropical sea in the air. At last. The coconut palms fringing the airport as tall as they had looked matchstick-like from the air. She remembered photographs of lazy days bathed in brilliant sunshine, smiling shiny faces and lush,…
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