Flash Fiction

Fiction

Tulips

Elise hadn’t known Dylan well enough to call him a friend, exactly, but in the strange summer between the end of exams and Results Day, she ...

December Now

I’m crying because I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because I’m crying. I wish I could cry myself to sleep. I haven’t been sleeping well sinc...

Poetry

Grief

Grief doesn’t evaporate into the sunlight of the morning. It’s heavier than the infinite raindrops falling, entrapping us with memories o...