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
Susanna Hislop
Picking the Lock
It is September. It is a Monday. But it feels nothing like a Monday morning at all. My mother is driving us down a Dorset lane as narrow, winding and nostalgic as the neurological pathways hotwiring m… Read article
Jon Day
Time and the City
8.15am on a Monday morning in 1908. Ruth Belville leaves her modest house on St Luke’s Road in Maidenhead and walks to the station. She gets there 20 minutes later and boards a train for Paddington.… Read article
Frank Lumbar
On Killing Squirrels
For the last few years, I’ve worked with an Air Arms S200 pre-charged pneumatic air rifle propped against my desk. It began as a precaution against mice, who’d taken advantage of the decreasing fa… Read article
Jonathan Pearson
Beyond Repair
It was unquestionably broken. No doubt about it. Looking away then looking back hadn’t improved the situation, nor had closing my eyes and wishing really hard. The basement floor where I stood was s… Read article
Mary Wellesley
A Gal in Kalamazoo
In May I went to Kalamazoo, Michigan (pop. 74,000). The town’s attractions include the Kalamazoo Regional Psychiatric Hospital Water Tower and the Kalamazoo Valley Museum, which in 2000 was voted th… Read article
From the Current Issue
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
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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