Mailing List


Leon Craig
Leon Craig’s writing has been published in the TLS3:AM MagazineReview 31, Storgy.com, Vice, Queen Mob's TeahouseFlight Journal and others. She is the co-editor of Thousand: An Anthology of Very Short Fiction, published by Brainchild Festival. She has just finished a short story collection, Parallel Hells.

Articles Available Online


Oscar Wilde Temple, Studio Voltaire

Art Review

April 2019

Leon Craig

Art Review

April 2019

The light is dim, the air richly scented. Little purple tea lights flicker in the votive candle rack and the walls are decorated with...

Feature

November 2018

[Getting] Down with Gal Pals

Leon Craig

Feature

November 2018

There’s a moment in Laura Kaye’s underrated novel English Animals when the protagonist Mirka, sitting in the village bar...

Brian Ed waited outside the ration house Merlijn took his time coming to the door, and opened it slowly Brian Ed raised his hand and waved Merlijn smiled an embarrassed smile and held up four fingers   ‘No rations until four o’clock, Brian Ed’   ‘Yes,’ said Brian Ed He didn’t leave ‘How are you today?’   ‘Oh,’ said Merlijn, his hand on the doorknob ‘I’m well, Brian Ed Thank you for asking’   They stood in silence Brian Ed shrugged All courtesies escaped him His everyday pack squeezed his neck and tore at his shoulders Inside were the children’s book, the old orange balloon – now deflated – that had once read Welcome Refugee!, and the four heavy stones he carried without knowing why, each the size of a baby’s head   ‘Well,’ said Merlijn, patting Brian Ed on the hand ‘See you at four, then’ Brian Ed thrust a long foot forward ‘No,’ he said ‘How is the weather? No snow will come? No avalanche time?’   Merlijn smiled He stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him ‘Brian Ed,’ he said, ‘are you hungry? Can I offer you a peach?’ He cupped his hand as if the peach were already there and held it up to Brian Ed’s mouth ‘Summer is coming Sun The peaches are good No avalanche Let’s walk’   He wasn’t hungry, but it was his own fault if Merlijn thought he was He only ever came to Merlijn for his ration – of food, of clothing, of wood Never had he come for company, not to Merlijn, not to anyone, not once since the poison curtain of war had dropped and travel home had become impossible He’d never dreamed it would last three years Three years was as long as some lives He hadn’t prepared and he hadn’t adjusted He hadn’t learned the words Instead, he’d gone dull in the comfortable glow of the golden cone   Brian Ed followed Merlijn up the hill to the orchard, where peaches and cherries and pears hung huge from their trees, pulsing and oozing like the separate chambers of one metastasising heart This wild growth was one of

Contributor

April 2016

Leon Craig

Contributor

April 2016

Leon Craig’s writing has been published in the TLS, 3:AM Magazine, Review 31, Storgy.com, Vice, Queen Mob’s Teahouse, Flight Journal and others. She is the co-editor of Thousand: An Anthology...

Mute Canticle

Prize Entry

April 2016

Leon Craig

Prize Entry

April 2016

Giulio the singing fascist came to pick me up from the little airport in his Jeep. He made sure to come round and hold...

READ NEXT

feature

Issue No. 10

Seventeen Contradictions and the End of Capitalism

David Harvey

feature

Issue No. 10

Prospects for a Happy but Contested Future: The Promise of Revolutionary Humanism   From time immemorial there have been...

fiction

January 2017

Oh You

Keller Easterling

fiction

January 2017

You won’t be able to do it. It is a call, and it is something you only know how...

poetry

August 2017

From The Dolphin House

Richard O’Brien

poetry

August 2017

Note for the following three poems: In 1965, a bottlenose dolphin christened Peter was the subject of a scientific...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required