S.K Perry was selected as the winner of the 2019 Berlin Writing Prize for her entry A Wide Neon Yell. Excerpted here, the short story explores the themes of sisterhood against the backdrop of a circus family tradition known as the hair hang. As the winner of the first prize, the author will be … Read more
The city was outside the car window when I woke up, all lit up with traffic lights and street lights and kebab shops. The sky was purplish stripes. I’d fallen asleep on the long drive back from the seaside. There weren’t as many traffic jams as usual, so it must have been pretty late. The … Read more
You can smell space, not direct like, you’d die doing that. But you can pick up bits of it from the things that went outside, wafts of recently used space suits or antennas brought in for repair. Away from planets it smells like a metal fire, the twisting girders of burning buildings or a penny … Read more
“These men,” he says, “were idealists. They were convinced escape would find them, and their consequences would simply evaporate with the passage of time. They waited and wandered for days, until their fingers became wiry and their eyes couldn’t focus, until scents muddled together and hunger possessed them. They began to forget where the forest … Read more
I had been dreaming of water, of cool, chlorinated rhythms, but I woke with a dry tongue and gaping mouth, body thirsty but still not conscious enough to act. I squinted into the in-between light of an almost sunrise, my hand tangled in E’s black hair, her heavy breathing filling the room. It wasn’t time … Read more
We didn’t tell anybody we were going. We were going to pick up Bob from Denmark. We knew he was waiting. And we knew Peter wanted to get rid of him.
We hadn’t been spontaneous for at least a year. Before we left I had wondered what the point was, the world divided up into islands made of two. I didn’t want to belong to anyone. You didn’t want to belong to anyone. We yearned for spontaneity, and wondered if we were polyamorous. We mentioned it once to one another to test the water with our toes, then pulled them back. Too deep, too cold.
Bob was twenty five years old, which was already a little too old for what we had in mind.
James Carson reads from his fantastic story ‘A Monkey on a Horse’. James came all the way from Scotland to take part in the book launch of our Streets of Berlin anthology. He really read beautifully, you’re in for a treat. We’re sorry about the sound quality, but get 50 people in a cellar and … Read more