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Issue 3 Cover


The Stories of Your Name
by J. M. Melican

If I were Palaeolithic, I would paint your name on sacred stones with ochre and ash.

by Cynthia So

My mother had been dead just a week when a moth flew into my room.

Jiak liu lian
by Yap Xiong

You catch a faint whiff of blood while selecting durians for the buffet.


Past Far Gone
by Toby MacNutt

Tell me about her?
I can’t. Too much to be known.

Leda’s Womb
by Alix Bosley

The egg waxes, the yellow white
of moon marrow, of stretched skin,
opaque with the dull stain of life blood speckling
the outer shell, enveloping the hard white.


by Aspen Eyes

Cover Art

The Antidote