Joanna writes short stories and flash fiction, has had her work published in a number of magazines and anthologies. She lives in London with her ever growing collection of Brooches.
I stand at the apex of the time. One foot in each hemisphere. This narrow piece of metal divides the world, East and West, rich and poor, the liberated and the repressed, the haves and have nots. Every time I visit Greenwich Park I stand on this spot. As a child I came with Dad….
I squeeze out the last bit, screw back the top and put the empty tube with the rest in the chest of drawers my parents bought us when we married. The first one I kept was from the hospital. You hadn’t finished it and nor did I. I tried a different brand once, but it…
Original Susan Tate Illustration by Michael N Green “They’ve got what?” Susan uttered the words mid sip. She was in the staff room with Beth enjoying a well-earned restorative cup of herbal tea. It had been a busy morning in Canterbury library. Eight toddlers for ‘baby rhythm time’; she was all for encouraging reading…
You are our daily companion. We stand, sway, jostle and lurch. We don’t notice the views you provide as we hurtle past – back gardens with paddling pools and washing lines. At the hub of the City you disgorge your reluctant cargo. Like ants we scurry to our offices, returning hours later to our favourite…
Story so far ~ Professional assassin Helena is in Barcelona on a job. At the last minute within feet of the target she receives a text message. The hit is cancelled and the agent Ashall has double crossed her and tried to have her killed. Read On……. At the airport Helena’s first task was to…
Eric held the present in his large hands, surprised at its weight. Not a scarf then, he thought. He picked at the edge of the sellotape with his right index finger. As he did so, fragments of dried grime were dislodged from under his fingernail. “Oh give it here.” Margaret grabbed the present. Eric noticed…
Story so far ~ Professional assassin Helena is in Barcelona on a job. At the last minute within feet of the target she receives a text message. There’s been a change of plan. Read On……. Helena drained her glass and with the caution of years of experience slipped it into her bag as she moved…
With one professional and practised sweep of her grey eyes Helena checked out the VIP lounge at Barcelona airport then lowered herself into one of the smart leather chairs. She sat well away from everyone else and sipped her strong espresso. No one noticed the business woman in her navy suit. But if they were…
“Is she dead?” David, a plump, balding, middle-aged man wearing a tan-coloured raincoat and holding a Tesco’s carrier bag asks “Are you sure?” The care-worker looks at David and with a well-practised sympathetic half smile and slight inclination of the head replies. “Yes, I am sorry, she slipped away peacefully about half an hour ago….
You sent four officers to my place of work to summon me to your place of work. You are the Chief of Political Security, part of the Secret Police. I am sitting opposite you now in the police station. Your chair is higher than mine, you look down on me. In this grey room across…
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Text & stories © Joanna Sterling
Stories © various authors
Editing by Joanna Sterling & Alyson Faye
Audio by Menna Bonsels
Brooch photography by Mark Colliton
Website by Brighton WEBtech