The Secret Army Aeroplane, Part II
In part II of his tribute to A A Milne’s short story of 1909, Rupert Millar sends his intrepid Edwardian heroes into the clutches of the Reich in pursuit of the stolen military plans…
Browsing: Fiction
The Secret Army Aeroplane
Tally-ho! With high jinx and jolly japes, Rupert Millar conjures up the close of the Edwardian age, a time of dashing heroes and dastardly villains, the brink of the storm over Europe in sight…
One Night in the Summer
“I felt my way across the stream but by the time I had got to the path I knew that it was unlikely I could do this.” Harry and his faithful Frodo chance an evening walk in the last of the light…
Advice
Introducing a short piece of fiction for the Bank Holiday weekend, in which Zhara Mulroy considers the conundrum of first impressions and past influences on a first date…
A Bright Moon For Fools
Described by Michael Palin as “very funny, very unpleasant and very touching at the same time”, we have an exclusive extract from the debut novel by Jasper Gibson…
I am Spartacus!
Harry Chapman battles with his inner demons and an unquenchable thirst for silence during a screening of Spartacus at the BFI…
Damascus 1939
“A restlessness pervaded his slightest movements as he sat behind a desk in the small dusty office that overlooked the minarets of the Near East. The call of the muezzin cried and wailed in the distance…”
Short Fiction: Henry Bird
“Henry Bird stood on the front step of his house. His hand still held the key in the lock of the front door. He always shut the door with the key, turning it in the lock to avoid that bang which set his teeth on edge.”
Short Fiction: Brown Lake
“Frank had been swimming ever since he could remember. His parents had owned a house down by the waterfront in Mosman, inside Sydney’s great Harbour…”
Short Fiction: The Phone Call
“This is The Salter Programme.” The voice was British, educated, with a working class burr. “I am calling from Tokyo, and want to inform you that your film script has been selected by our cultural exchange programme.”
Short Fiction: Cigar
In the depths of my sleep, a niggle prompts me to turn over, and the resulting disarrangement causes me to frown in annoyance. I am now aware of my retina, and the daylight penetrating the thin membrane of my closed eyelid.