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
Lulah Ellender
The Museum of Broken Relationships
However,when, during routine evictions, I discover alien pants, cinema stubs, the throwawaycomment – on a post–it – or a tiny stowawaypressed flower amid bottom drawers,I know these are my souv… Read article
Susanna Hislop
The Quarry
The light moved greyly over the sand. They hadn’t set out until after three, frustrated once again in their battle with the day. It is difficult being on holiday though, everyone knows that. The wre… Read article
J.R. Carpenter
Once Upon A Tide
‘Once upon a Tide’ is a variable, restless, shifting narrative. Turns of phrase, stage directions, and lines of dialogue from Shakespeare’s The Tempest (1610-11) are randomly, repeatedly, and so… Read article
Dan Stevens
Invisible Watch
Whatever happened to my invisible watch? I can't have lost it. I don't remember a day when it disappeared. Was there a time when I still wore it underneath my Swatch watch or Casio? Is it buried at th… Read article
Alex Niven
North Sea Travelogue
Exhausted, feeling hemmed in, I took the first northbound train. Making notes in a moleskine pad I wrote down everything good I had: girlfriend, sister, one or two friends, some skill with words, … 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
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
James Draney
On the 343
In 2012, the number 343 bus caught fire outside my bedroom window in southeast London. Caught fire might be misleading. Rather, it exploded, rattling my windows, waking me up, and drawing most of the … Read article
Full Issue Here
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