Category Archives: Elizabeth Irvine

Snap! Is the sound your bones make if hit with enough force at just the right angle. Snap! A sound like a rifle shot and you wonder for a split second if someone nearby is hunting. Snap! Before you crumple … Continue reading →

Seven years old, desperately hot and seriously pissy. I have some sort of freakish summer cold on the first day the pool is open. The worst! I’d much rather be sick in the winter, at least then people don’t stare … Continue reading →

Salty press of warm insistent tongue. Jagged teeth on nipples. Strong hands on throat. Over eager fingers leaving tiny bruises. Grasping, tangling, pull my hair. Salt and sweat and scorching slippery heat.

Homage by Elizabeth Irvine Kele! Hey! You there! What are you doing hacking into my breadfruit tree with that enormous knife? That tree has nourished the family of Roberto for generations, unsullied by vandals and vagrants alike. What remorseless rogue … Continue reading →