Mailing List


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

Articles Available Online


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...

The automatic rifle fire was followed by an unnerving whistle at Ti’s ear He gripped the shopping bags, grabbed Lo Ling’s arm and pulled her into a sprint Together they made for the alleys with the rest of the crowd   He could not believe it – the troops were shooting again His shock endured even as a line of wet red spattered up his shirtsleeve A man spun and fell Any thought of helping was gone before it was fully considered The pulpy mess was soon out of sight   Lo Ling was screaming, struggling to keep up Ti held firm at her elbow He dared not slow down His grandfather’s sìhéyuàn was close by and would be safe   There was another crack of gunfire More whistles Panic stretched across his belly, bound tighter and tighter by the footfall of everyone running The relentless stomp-stomp-stomp alarmed him most, over the barging and stumbling; the regular cries of ‘They’re coming! They’re coming!’   Not for the first time, he cursed the students in the square His anger was personal, far from any political point of view More than anything he wished for a return to normality   If the students dispersed, the army would leave and order could be restored, which was best for all People could get on with their lives He could get on with courting Lo Ling in peace   ‘I need to stop,’ she called behind   ‘Not far to Wài Gōng’s,’ he answered and hauled her into another side lane of the hútòng   They ran on, as fast as his heavying legs and scorching lungs could carry them His grandfather’s courtyard residence was at the end of the next passage, less than ten minutes’ away   ‘Please’ Lo Ling pulled harder against him ‘I’m going to be ill,’ she sobbed   Hesitantly, he stopped to let her catch her breath She bent double and panted at a wall Despite a searing thud to his own chest, he fought the urge to join her   Their fellow citizens rushed by They warned Ti not to stay out of doors It was not safe tonight He nodded at them politely, a whir in his ears causing

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...

READ NEXT

fiction

November 2012

Religion and the Movies

Aidan Cottrell Boyce

fiction

November 2012

When the Roman Empire ruled the world, you could make it work for you. The women, the hospitality. You...

poetry

May 2016

Two Poems

Sam Buchan-Watts

poetry

May 2016

The Dentist’s Chair       I dreamt of the dentist’s chair, that it wore a smart pair of...

poetry

September 2011

First Blimp

Joshua Trotter

poetry

September 2011

Removing colour from my thoughts, I formed a winter ball. I threw it. The dead were uncounted. There was...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required