About The Junket
The Junket is an online quarterly featuring essays, short fiction and poetry. Founded in 2011, it exists as an excuse for writing: to justify the graft of its making, and indulge the mischief it continues to make.
From the Archive
Thomas Marks
Albion Street, Lewes
Packs of men, women, and children are rounding the corner of Albion Street with their hands full of fire. The blazing torches they clutch look like matchsticks made for a giant and their flames burn i… Read article
Susanna Hislop
On the Pill
…the women come and go… (T.S. Eliot) Tuesday. It says, as I pop the pale yellow pill through the foil. The passing days terrify me. Is this how I will measure out my life? With Dianette? I am 18… Read article
Thomas Marks
On Lodging
Lodger. It sounds a sad thing. Still, whenever talk turns to houses and someone asks if I own, it seems best to own up. I am a lodger. Not a tenant or lease-holder or anything else, but a lodger, rent… Read article
Graham Riach
Rust and Crystal
In moments of becoming and subsidence, as flowers come to bud, iron rusts, or a stone by a well wears smooth from the hands that rest there, they sing of their being, here and now. This coming and goi… Read article
Thomas Marks
On Not Eating Nuts
As soon as I’m shown into the clinic, the specialist wants to know why I’m there. She’s had a long letter from my GP, she says, about some half-remembered symptoms I first suffered aged six – … Read article
From the Current Issue
Nathan Dunne
Silent Motorcade
One of the most iconic amateur films of the last century was Abraham Zapruder’s footage of the JFK assassination. At only 26.6 seconds it has grown to become a visual touchstone of 1960s America, sp… Read article
Molly Taylor
Reluctance
I am happy staying put; not joining in. But your sun-stroked face keeps peeping around the corner of the day room: eyes locked, that fierce smile, your whole heaving body beckoning me to better w… Read article
Nick Hunt
Fung’s
I drove past Fung’s a few days ago. Of course, it isn’t Fung’s now. It’s an empty building surrounded by weeds, an ugly breezeblock shell. There’s plywood over the sliding doors, and a spind… Read article
Full Issue Here
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RT @amalab: Camera Obscura:I'd like to ask my father about a photograph he took of Bob Dylan in 1965..But I can't~Emma Bielecki https://t.c…
1st December 2016 08:24am
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26th November 2016 08:30pm
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