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
Peter Scott
Rage
I never used to get angry. Though there were, certainly, days when a certain thing, perhaps this thing or perhaps that other thing, might have piqued me like a mosquito. Of course there were. I’d … Read article
Helen Jukes
Stig of the Dump
"If you went too near the edge of the chalk pit the ground would give way. Barney had been told this often enough. Everybody had told him. Barney had a feeling, somewhere in his middle, that it was pr… Read article
Crystal Whitaker
Prishtina Streets
Eyes to the ground. Each step brings a new texture, mostly curious, sometimes treacherous. It may be the relentless subzero temperatures striving to shear layers of stone from the bedrock of paving sl… Read article
Joseph Minden
Dr Fox
after Afanas’ev ‘Something priceless musthave left the world, old man.Why else would you cry like this,sitting in the road rather thanpressing on and kicking up red dust like others makinga jour… Read article
Caroline Williams
Pissing into the Wind
There is something particularly funereal in looking, as I am now, at Marcel Duchamp's urinal, or rather – since the original is lost – a 1964 replica placed reverently under a box of museum glass.… Read article
From the Current Issue
Tom Offland
EXCUSE ME GHOST
The Famennian Age Extinction Last night I saw the Famennian Age Extinction in an off-licence in Camberwell Green. It was dressed in hospital sandals and soiled hospital slacks. Holding a leather hosp… Read article
Katharine Markwick
The Road Ahead
Katrin! You so slow! Look – everyone behind you is piss off! I look in the mirror. A queue of traffic is building up behind me as I head south on the A202. I’m being cautious. No Katrin, … 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
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