The birds are stoned with the humidity / in the sluggish air, the element / condensing on their feathers like beads.

A Brexit poem by Liz Lefroy

“‘My phobia is simple: I am constantly terrified that a crime is going to be committed and that I am going to be implicated in some way.” A new short story

“In the summer of 1980, in the grip of some Kerouac-ish fantasy, I opted to hitch-hike from Laredo to New York”

On writing the life of a very private man

An extract from the forthcoming second volume of memoirs by David Pryce Jones

‘Everybody loved Jake Rosenheim, except his son Jimmy, who hated him’

“Why do we want what we want? Where do our desires come from? Why do we chase the things that elude us?” A dialogue between René Girard and Robert Pogue Harrison, introduced by Cynthia Haven