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by Kri Dennett The Tyburn Tree in Marble Arch marks the spot where witches dropped. Women hexed by desperate men who hunted them for games and pence. In 1621, Winchmore Hill, an offering was found; Elizabeth Sawyer, said to be possessed by Tom the demonic hound. She refuted the claims and stood her ground. A … Continue reading Truths of Tragedy

by Hamour Baika The first time I accidentally came to look at the world’s most famous clock, it took away my breath. Not because I was awe struck. Rather, I found it hard to breathe as I tried to swallow my sobs. I was tired. And hungry. And cold. I’d come to London to go … Continue reading Etant SDF

by Ali Mulaga            So I’m standing on this bus crouched next to the door, anonymous in a sea of commuters. My headphones are on at full blast so as to annoy the poor sardines next to me (kidding-- I just like my bass loud). It’s so typical, the buses are full, the trains are … Continue reading Hollow People

by Namya Naresh When people say the world works in mysterious ways, my inner voice laughs out loud. Yes, it very literally laughs in my head vibrating throughout my body. Because I do not believe that is true. At least I didn’t. I’d say it took me on a journey. But that just sounds stupid … Continue reading Consolation

by Harriet Weston The platform was cold and empty, just as I liked it. No distractions. No delays. With my feet planted firmly, I waited.            3, 2, 1…            Soft rumblings forewarned the tube’s arrival. The doors opened to a partially filled carriage, the commuters segregated within their own pods, and a metallic voice … Continue reading The Commuter

by Naseema Khanom Wash Friday, 9 o’clock, Jummah, Mile End Station. In pendulum style, Imran crosses the dotted borders of Mile End to West Ham on the regular to get to his shop. The morning sea of serious faces wash over him, as he skids across the tiled floor in a rush to get to … Continue reading Joe the Barber

by Emily Rath She wears a cape of winter grey draped over her shoulders bare they call her Prim bow to dance her suitors unaware, of victims past and lovers gone regarding false identity, mounting her in cold dominion riding her absentmindedly. A path is laid with daffodils heads heavy from winter rain, would you … Continue reading The Knoll

by John Philip Gethring                                  The camera shivers through                                  a quiet touch of eye contact                                  shuttering a fracture of time’s square-ness.                                  In it, friends dress                                  tastefully gross                                  formed to styles … Continue reading Travel Joy

by Wayne Goodman “Nice day for a picnic.” I looked up into the face of a middle-aged gentleman with noticeable sags under his steely-blue eyes made more obvious as he had bent at the waist. That toothy grin seemed amicable enough, but those mutton chops had significant amounts of grey and much of the hair … Continue reading Nice Day for a Picnic