Ruth Lawlor [dropcap style= boxed]H[/dropcap]e felt the bitter cold seep through his pores as he paused; his head tilted upwards, listening for something, anything other than the harsh grating of the deep winter wind in his ears. He was not a superstitious man but the sight of crimson tracks in the snow had unsettled him….

Cheers | Gabriel Ivors

     She grabbed the bottle out of my hand and poured its contents down her neck. Whisky leaked down from her mouth onto her dress and her eyes began to water. Bottle finished, she tossed it aside and fell backwards onto the sofa. ‘My head hurts’, she said, delicately weaving her fingers over her belly….

Birdsong | Kenneth Hickey

Before dawn when the silent whispers turned him to action. Slow he took his first steps soft on the bridge. At last his path clear, the future certain. He quickened his pace along the shallow curve of the pedestrian walkway until he stood silent at its peak, alone in the cold morning air. Surveying the…