Ploom #075 When Death Comes Calling Lyndsey Croal When Death came to call, I was planting flower bulbs in the garden. There was a strange whistling sound before their descent. Like an arrow piercing the air. Then, Death landed with a thud on the newly unearthed soil. A moan of something like pain. A wing […]
Ploom #073 For sale: childhood memories Mixed bundle including (but not limited to) rainy holidays, school parents’ nights, first kiss. Middle child, no family pets, distant fatherWould interest collectors and curious alike Selling as lot, needs gone ASAP£40 ono. Swaps considered Liane McKay Liane McKay is a poet from Hamilton. Her work has appeared in magazines and
Ploom #071 Ghost in the Machine Hilary Ayshford My washing machine is haunted. Two months ago one of my husband’s black socks went missing. That in itself is not unusual, but since he is a creature of habit and always buys the same brand and colour it never takes long for a stray to find
Ploom #070 A Trick of the Dappled Light Ellen Forkin I wanted to believe in something. Ghosts. Dragons. Will-o-the-wisps. I stood at the edge of the forest, peered into the dark and deep. I trod through derelict houses, touched their decay. I counted the standing stones, once, twice, waiting for lightning to strike. An unearthly
Ploom #067 Cash or Card? Karen Arnold Her shop is set out in the pool of light from the standard lamp. She is dressed in Harry Potter pyjamas and a green and black witches’ hat from the dressing up box. Still warm and pink flushed from bath time. She has set out her stall on
Ploom #063 Ragnarök Postponed Tavia Allan Fenrir the Wolf stalks into a greasy spoon on Kilburn High Road. A young woman is counting her child’s toes at the table nearest the door. An old man in a dark coat is reading a folded paper. Neither of them looks at the wolf. He addresses the shiny-faced
Ploom #062 Nae sae different Eilidh Crofton Ken at feeling? Whin ye huv the perfect buzz n ye can feel yersel sobering up, and in at moment there’s no a bigger tragedy in the wurld. Aye, so ats where we wis. We huv a small and precious windae tae redeem the situation. We’re steppin intae
Ploom #060 A Sting in the Tale Kate Leimer ‘Pssst!’ My heart sank. Someone had found me. I’d left the others packing up camp, hoping to escape the tourist chatter for five minutes on my own. Surely not much to ask: a little uninterrupted contemplation of the awe-inspiring scenery, to enjoy the silence with a
Ploom #058 Sunweys and widdershins Hilary Coyne ‘The days are repeating.’ The woman was hanging the damp, stringy washing on the whirligig, back turned to the dark clouds on the horizon. ‘What’s that?’ I had intended just to carry on past but I can’t ignore a greeting when I’m on my own. ‘I did exactly
Ploom #056 The Stacks Scott Montgomery ‘Watch out for any ghosts!’ smirks Jenny, the librarian. Apart from a casual-staff induction day a few months back, I have never set foot in Library HQ. It was built in the late Victorian era, with a red sandstone exterior and domed ceiling. I am tasked with going down
