I’m looking at you looking from the clifftop…
In Issue 13, we journey between.
We have journeys by bus, by tram and by foot. Journeys between places, between times, between looks, between cracks, between clocks. Dandelions and endings… and endings that aren’t really endings. Gateways, getaways, soup and Co-op coupons. Each piece explores the gaps between moments and worlds, all in the sparsest words.
In three acts, we travel through rich landscapes of poems, prose and photos. Read them in order, read them in disorder, read between them, read them in your head or out loud, or let the author speak to you. Read them, share them, sit with them. And let us know what you think: email contact@brieflywrite.com.
For Issue 13, we are delighted to pay all contributors thanks to the generosity of our supporters. Thank you for joining us for this brief moment.
Daniel & Elinor
~ act one~
Julian Dobson, ‘Reasons to befriend a blocked footbridge’
Fokkina McDonnell, Two Poems
Lou Grimberg, ‘The First Soup of the Year’
Lavana Kray, Three Photos
~ act two ~
Hayden Boyce, Two Poems
Phi Phi AN, ‘As far as half the way to the gateway’
Hannah Linden, ‘Heaps of Places’
Craig Dobson, ‘Ex-‘
~ act three ~
Ion Corcos, Two Poems
Jowonder, ‘Between The Ticks’ (Photos & Poem)
Frank Thomas Rosen, ‘The Blue Strangler’
Thomas Sudell, ‘Riddle 51’
From the archive…
Black Swift
by Sean Cunningham
You asked me what bird I would be if I were a bird and I told you I would be a Black Swift, living on the wing. I told you I would take the highest crag behind the waterfall and furnish it with the mossiest nest anyone had ever seen – even you would be in awe. And if anybody, bird or beast or man, ever saw my acrobatics in the fine morning spray, they couldn’t help but to believe in something higher, something more. At this point, you tried to tell me what bird you would be if you were a bird, but instead I told you that if I were a Black Swift, I would pepper the afternoon sky with shooting stars of charcoal grey, or hover on the current, in love with the Earth below. You told me that you would be a parakeet with green and gold – I told you that I would tell nobody of my secrets. You said that you don’t understand me anymore. I told you I would die on the wing.
(from Briefly Zine #5. See here: Black Swift)
We pay all contributors
We pay all contributors to Briefly Zine, as well as all writers published through our competitions. Thank you to everyone who has supported our little literary space for making this possible.
Briefly Zine – Issue 14
Submissions for Issue 14 will open in July 2025. Theme to be announced…
Briefly Write 