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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...

‘World finance had, in 2008, a near-death experience’   The words belong to a partner of a renowned international law firm The partner was standing at the podium, looking over a sea of bearded faces within which bobbed a scattering of men and women without any facial hair, some of whom (those from firms that were days away from collapsing) were jotting down every word as if the speech were a newly unearthed Gospel The partner was trying his best to kill time before the introductory speaker showed up It was already 08:30 and he had yet to arrive The partner therefore ad-libbed into the dark sea, praying that nobody was really listening to what he was saying   The introductory speaker – a Revenue Recognition Analyst for the redundantly named Halal Islamic Bank (HIB) – reached the office of the renowned international law firm at 08:32, two minutes after the time he was supposed to have started the address for the Gillette-sponsored Islamic Banking Roadshow He was late because this was his first time at that particular law firm’s offices and the blue GPS-dot on his mobile phone had been bouncing about erratically in the City which had led him to take a taxi, which should have been faster than walking but wasn’t His face was covered in a film of sweat, lubricating his nose and making his glasses slide down The woman who greeted him at the reception was pretty, then, until he pushed them back up She gave him a concerned look, then checked him off the list and opened the little glass gate that led to the elevators The elevator mirrors confirmed what he had feared ever since he got into the taxi: his left underarm was covered in sweat   He had a tendency to sweat profusely, so much so that it would seep through not only his undershirt, but also his shirt and in extreme cases such as today, even his jacket The reason his right armpit was dry was because he had received a Botox®-injection to stop the sweating three days ago They had called it an injection,

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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Prize Entry

April 2015

I Told You...

Owen Booth

Prize Entry

April 2015

1. The Triumph of Capitalism   It was the end of the cold war and capitalism had won. Everywhere...

Interview

June 2015

Interview with Moyra Davey

Hannah Gregory

Interview

June 2015

One way to think about Moyra Davey’s way of working across photography, film and text is in terms of...

feature

January 2013

A Black Hat, Silence and Bombshells : Michael Hofmann at Cambridge & After

Stephen Romer

feature

January 2013

The black hat and the black coat I was familiar with, before I knew their owner. It was Cambridge,...

 

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