Home stories

Dialect Kills People

Quite some years back I had round my Sunday lunch table, a young lady just out from South Africa an older man with a very pronounced local accent with other guests. The conversation was very lively and we were all having a great time. The man, who worked in the countryside started talking about his day.

Mary Webb


Child Abuse

I'm an alcoholic, but I'm also... (and this is good, wait for it...) a delivery driver! It's a shitty job, but at least I get to drink til my thoughts get colorful and drive around my hometown smoking spliffs out the window. It also affords me a chance to glimpse into the lives of the people of Livingston, where I live.

Christopher Jordan



I’m home, I just got home. Home is where the heart is. The heart of the home is the hearth. The Vulcan heater looks at me, dormant and cold. I leave my suitcase near the door, next to Kurt Vonnegut, who is on the floor, a last minute discard before leaving for the airport.

Libbie Nelson


I'll Get a Knife

I was living on the worst street in town. I didn't like it. Horrible things would happen in my block of flats. I would hear these things happen in the hallway and hide under the bed covers in my flat. One night around 1AM I heard something happening, more horrible than previous things.

Andrew Towers


Bless you! Now, where's the toast?

The night was clear, a light breeze was blowing outside, people were arriving home after work. Everyone went about their evening with no hint of the mystery that was about to unfold in my house.

The kitchen light was the only light on in the house. The TV, also on, was showing an old episode of If You Are The One.



I could be Spiderman!

I had just moved into my new place with a friend and the building changed the keys to our fire door lock. This wasn’t much of a concern as we both agreed not to lock that one anyway, just the door lock itself. My flatmate had a new key cut for me a few days before, but I was yet to put it on my key ring. This would come back to haunt me.