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Chris Newlove Horton
Chris Newlove Horton is a writer living in London.

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DATE NIGHT

Prize Entry

April 2016

Chris Newlove Horton

Prize Entry

April 2016

He said, ‘Tell me about yourself.’ He said, ‘Tell me about you.’ He said, ‘Tell me everything. I’m interested.’ He said, ‘I want to...

fiction

April 2015

Heavy

Chris Newlove Horton

fiction

April 2015

It is a two lane road somewhere in North America. The car is pulled onto the shoulder with the...

1997   Business boomed Optimism was shooting up everywhere and bursting into flower Music was jocular Sport was effusive Soon it would be possible to do the most wonderful things with computers People woke and felt buoyant Cereal was measured out with glee Steam lifted from the mugs of recently reconciled marriages Parents treated children to extravagant lunch box items People would turn to their loved ones and say things like, ‘I can’t wait to read the paper’ and ‘what a time to be alive’ But the people had been caught out before They knew from history books and the Bible and Panorama that no flower can last forever; they knew that after summer the petals fold and fail; the leaves whither; the plant dies The people knew that in good times smart people put down roots So the people built houses   *   People were building a whole lot of houses To build houses you need timber and because Stuart’s business traded solely in timber the optimism soon wormed its way into the wood at Ford’s Mill Orders were rampant Builders bought four by two by the pack and skirting board by the bundle Stuart sent his lorries out full every morning and watched them return empty by lunch Often they would be sent out again because of all the fucking optimism about all the fucking houses; because business was booming and everyone was having such a great time; because it was all so serenely upbeat: ‘Education, education, education,’ New Labour said Smart people build houses   *   Stuart was smart Too smart to sell timber for a living, people said Far too smart Could have been a lawyer, they said Could have been a damn fine lawyer A teacher at Stuart’s school – Mr Charters – was certain that Stuart had it in him to be a damn fine lawyer   ‘You should go to university,’ he told Stuart, ‘and study law’   ‘Dad wants me to join the family business   ‘What business is that?’   ‘The timber business’   Everyone thought Stuart was making a huge mistake turning down the opportunity to be such a damn fine lawyer ‘I

Contributor

August 2014

Chris Newlove Horton

Contributor

August 2014

Chris Newlove Horton is a writer living in London.

James Richards: Not Blacking Out...

Art

December 2011

Chris Newlove Horton

Art

December 2011

Artist James Richards appropriates audio-visual material gathered from a range of sources, which he then edits into elaborate, fragmented collages.   But whereas his...

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Interview

February 2014

Interview with Lisa Dwan

Rosie Clarke

Interview

February 2014

In a city where even the night sky is a dull, starless grey, immersion in absolute darkness is a...

feature

Issue No. 16

Scroll, Skim, Stare

Orit Gat

feature

Issue No. 16

1.   This is an essay about contemporary art that includes no examples. It includes no examples because its...

Interview

March 2016

Interview with Han Kang

TR. Deborah Smith

Sarah Shin

Interview

March 2016

Han Kang is a disquieting storyteller who leads the reader into the very heart of human experience, where the...

 

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