You haven’t yet realised, in your ignorance of life, beauty (and grammar) that the owners of what you so dismissively call Stuff have begun to take yours. Your precious iPhone 8, your £445.00 Balenciaga black trainers and that bottle of Louis Roederer Cristal you were planning to open for your girlfriend. The Dead Peoples, as […]
What’s the story?
For our Storytelling issue, we asked our readers to select an image from image library Stocksy; an image they thought could inspire a great story. Of all the suggestions that came in we selected one suggested by Stuart McFerrers of a sign outside a vintage shop, taken by Alicia Bock. We felt it was full of questions and narrative potential.
Now we had the image, we needed stories inspired by it. So we asked our Twitter followers to help: over 70 of them submitted a tweet-length story. In collaboration with online literary magazine Visual Verse we also asked some of their writers to respond to the image with either a short story or poem – read all of them below.
Dear Shop Owners at No.28b Fore St, Once again, I am writing to you concerning your advertisement printed in the Blemingfield Times. Last Saturday, as I was drinking my breakfast tea, my husband Gordon placed the aforementioned paper on our kitchen table saying, “Doreen, breathe deep, they have done it again.” When I saw your […]
I wonder whether you’ve seen the sign already, whether I should cover your eyes. Or whether that would just alert you to the fact that there is something to see. Of course it would. Stupid me. So, I keep walking, keep you walking, your slim hand in mine. You seem peaceful, staring ahead. You tend […]
What’s the story? Tweet us a tale inspired by this image and we’ll print our faves in the next issue of CR. Reply to this tweet to take part pic.twitter.com/e6Ej3FisJ2 — Creative Review (@CreativeReview) September 29, 2017 For our Storytelling special issue, we invited our Twitter followers to tweet us a story in response to […]
capital is dead labour on barren soils cloven for shopping pavements in to wattled stepping to deter a wheel chair as if a movie of death were situationism lite under the sidewalks of a hipster charity lane upcycling ethos as art and pathos for mustard by the artisan brewery denims and trust funds washed down […]
Dragged over broken concrete behind closed doors just in, another bin bag. Jacket, not waterproof, torn yes but in my pockets half a can and that smoke that fell from me. Earring trapped in the lining cosy in its own fur coat, more rollies in the bashed baccy tin. Sleeping bag, was blue. White tin […]
I took it all with me, but apparently there’s no room. The tenth circle of hell is exchange and return. This is punishment for too much shopping, I presume. I took it all with me, but apparently there’s no room. There are no decorations allowed in my eternal tomb, so I suppose it’ll be easier […]
And pass the sign the wardrobe still has not been emptied The perfume bottle still on the dresser Between her hairbrush And her ceramic boat still there – a plaster cast of paper versions she made and unmade Her magnetic poetry still on the fridge, One letter always slips, the not ing […]