Issue 2 Preface
We're very excited to be able to start sharing with you the lovely submissions that made the final cut for Issue 2!
We wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who submitted their work for our consideration, we had over a 100 submissions, which is more than we ever imagined we'd receive when we first conceived this little magazine.
Thank you as well to everyone who has subscribed, followed, and shown their support to us. This magazine has been a labour of love and we're so happy that you guys have found as much joy from it as we have.
To tide you over till the release date we have some short pieces from the editors.
Issue Two will officially begin uploading as of the 09th of November.
Hope you're all as excited as we are!
For Best Results | By Georgia Wetherall
Daniel and I bought this microwave oven we could link to our laptops. It was expensive, nearly two grand, but it changed my life. I could put a bowl of minestrone in there before I left for work in the morning and programme it to start whirring away ten minutes before I walked in the door. Christmas dinner was a breeze too. Everything set and ready to go on my computer so we could just sit back and enjoy a glass of wine, knowing the turkey would be ready for us at three.
It had this USB wire too, so I could plug it in anywhere. Daniel used to joke that I could take it on train journeys and make a fortune selling paninis to the other riders.
One of my favourite features was a custom ping. No longer that grating, high pitched sound you can feel in your teeth, but a soft voice proclaiming your meal is done. Like having my own personal butler.
The extra two hundred quid I’d paid for the glossy black finish meant I could watch myself watch my muffins rise. And every time they came out perfectly golden, a little crispy on the surface and fluffy inside. They were so good the neighbours thought I’d bought them from a bakery.
‘It’s just my microwave,’ I’d profess. ‘You should come around sometime and see it in action.’
When we divorced. it was the only thing I took. He offered me money, the wedding china, the rug I’d shipped back from our 2012 holiday to Vietnam. My solicitor even convinced him to throw the car in there for good measure, but I didn’t want it. Mum thought I’d gone daft, kept telling me that I could buy a new one with the settlement money when I moved into my flat. I didn’t tell her, but I’d turned all the money down.
I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving it with him. Knowing that he would eventually delete my settings and replace them with someone else’s.
The Lonely Hearts Club | By Megan Rebecca
all the girls with bleeding hearts
and all the boys with broken parts
sit in a room alone together
they cry through blissful smiles
and laugh salty tears
craving another heart
to slip between their teeth
two by two they leave
one by one they return
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