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Autumn collection · 2026
Original short fiction about wanting, hesitating, and the exact moment someone decides not to turn back. Written to be read slowly — preferably alone.
In this issue
Twenty-nine storiesShe pressed eight. He pressed twelve. Between those two floors there were thirty seconds, and then there were none at all.
IIHer name was still saved the old way. He typed, deleted, typed again, and sent it before he could think.
IIIAcross twelve metres of night air, the curtain never quite closed. It took four months before either of them waved.
IVTwo useless meal vouchers, a cancelled flight, and a hotel corridor with two doors three metres apart.
VEvery eight bars, everybody changes partner. On the fourth Wednesday nobody changed, because there was no class.
VIAt 3:12 the alarm went in bed 12. At four in the morning both their hands were still shaking.
VIIShe went to a village of thirty people out of season precisely so she wouldn't have to talk to anyone. It worked for two days.
VIIIHe said water pump. She said belt tensioner. The noise lasted eight seconds and she came back three weeks running.
IXThe stacks run on a motion light: ninety seconds still and it dies. Neither of them walked to the middle of the aisle.
XThree hours with no power, no pump and no lift. The whole block went down to the tap in the car park with buckets.
XIShe stood twelve seconds with the key card in her hand, not opening room 11. It took him nine years to get there.
XIITwo berths sold separately, eighty centimetres wide, eleven hours to the border. The catch makes a clack you can hear.
XIIIShe had the portrait by twenty to seven. She kept asking for two degrees of chin for another hour and a half.
XIVHe picked the two of them up at 4:07 and kept his eyes on the road. The app added twelve minutes, and he accepted rather fast.
XVFourteen boxes, two piles and an unmade mattress in the middle of the bedroom. Both keys went back to the desk three days apart.
XVISix people, three tents, and one of them was a one-man. By the third night there was no excuse left, not the rain, not the cold.
XVIIHe corrects her grip on the pulldown and she pretends she knew. At twenty past three the lad on reception goes out for food.
XVIIIEight pieces handed in printed and returned with red pen down the margin. In week seven the writing left the margin and took the page.
XIXSeven said yes in the group chat and two turned up. The key was under the pot and it started raining at seven.
XXFive months of Tuesdays without one word between them. At 14:02 the sand ran out and nobody turned the timer.
XXIIt was booked for forty-five minutes and ran an hour and twenty. She withdrew her application on the Friday.
XXIIThree days of trade fair, two stands two metres apart, and an orange extension lead on loan until Thursday.
XXIIIRight shoulder two centimetres lower. At the third fitting he said the wedding had been called off.
XXIVSeven sessions were booked and there were nine. The mistake is half a millimetre and nobody covered it.
XXVThe last order goes in at 22:40. What comes after that is not work and not off, and it is where everything happens.
XXVINineteen people, numbered places and not one word in four days. They have both already paid for March.
XXVIIWith the red light on, it is a radio programme. With it off, it is eight months of a different conversation.
XXVIIIA six-hour crossing became fifteen. The four-berth cabin had been sold to two separate people.
XXIXThirty-six hours of curing is the only moment in a renovation when the flat stands empty.
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