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...

Isaac Goodchrist, Esq reviewed the 48-hour letter   therefore, in the strictly professional opinion of this author, the nation’s military bodies are adequately licensed, according to the language of law and the precedent of 2001’s AUMF (Authorisation for Use of Military Force), to employ all appropriate means — including deadly persuasion — against those foreign entities (or, if necessary, non-entities) as enumerated supra, including by proxy all persons, organisations, or nations abetting those entities/non-entities, age being no object, gender being no object, race being no object, citizenship being no object, faculty of mind being no object   In sum, should lethal force be applied, the powers that be should sleep swimmingly, in terms of, at least, the language of law and the facts of precedent, soporifically perfumed by the atomised skull matter of those foreign foes (of any potential age, colour, shape, or content)   Goodchrist signed the letter   His signature had the aspect of a string of bulbous grapes on the vine The page was fat stock, flecked with colour, with a smell a little bleachy and audible flap Against the dark grained wood of Goodchrist’s kitchen table, its handsome ivory popped Goodchrist recapped his pen, which he’d stolen from a Blockbusters, circa 1992, and he watched the ink sink, stain, barely bleed, and set; then, with plain horror, he looked forward and came to slow terms with the breakfast before him He thought, So food has come to this   Breakfast, Goodchrist was discovering, was stale cereal, served to him — by him — in the bile-green, becrusted dog bowl He found he had already conceded a lump to his mouth He chewed, wondered How he had arrived at supping from this lowly vessel was mystery, as were most of his other domestic movements for the past two feverish days, during which time he’d composed the letter As was lately usual, the composition period had been spent in fugue The stress of his job was wrenching the fingertips of his senses off their ledge with increasing spur In the pit below, mind was cloaca, but for the legalese flushing through   Goodchrist was a war lawyer It was his

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

feature

Issue No. 5

The White Review No. 5 Editorial

The Editors

feature

Issue No. 5

One of the two editors of The White Review recently committed a faux pas by reacting with undisguised and indeed...

Art

Issue No. 6

Interview with Edmund de Waal

Emmeline Francis

Art

Issue No. 6

As we speak, Edmund de Waal, ceramicist and writer, moves his palms continually over the surface of the trestle...

poetry

March 2015

Coup & Bell Curve

Elizabeth Willis

poetry

March 2015

COUP   Mallarmé’s gambling astonished everyone even the poets   An acre of paper sold down a river whose...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required