Wednesday 26th November 2025

The Source

A Sunday in the Park with Marianne.

She wears no rings. Her ears are double-pierced, hanging with astrolabes and star-studded. She wears two necklaces—one is a golden cross, and the second is a white diamond. Her...
Culture Briony Arnott -

Magnolias

Slender boughs tremulous under the weight of tight-lipped buds, pink like dawn’s blushing glow, she peeps...
Culture Louise Guy -

A Spell For Students 

Reading unfinished? Essay half written? Lectures not attended? Then this is the spell you...
Culture Tilly White -

Dear Reader,

It has been so long since last I felt  your fingertips tracing my pages, cascading shivers...
Culture Tilly White -
Latest

Fresh-water

I am no longer a mother—I have surrendered my body to the surgeon’ssea shells and fish bones; and my sonto the teal press of...

‘Pour summer in a glass’: retracing Dandelion Wine

“You did not hear them coming. You hardly heard them go. The grass bent down, sprang up again. They passed like cloud shadows downhill...

Perhaps, Oxford

We met at a Latin meeting hosted by the Oxford Ancient Languages Society at University College. I signed up for Latin partly out of curiosity,...

How to Say Goodbye to the Cities You’ve Loved

For those of us between borders, home is not fixed; it’s cumulative.

W.H. Auden at the Bus Stop: In Praise of Intellectual Delay

It’s a damp Tuesday afternoon, and W.H. Auden is waiting patiently at the bus stop...

A Pelican Crossing Somewhere on Green Dragon Lane

"The passage of time is a bloodthirsty hound."

Easter Eggs

"I’m really sorry I missed your house. Even the Easter Bunny can make mistakes."

Hand over Heart

"So bite the heel that walked you home in the rain"

Copies

"I want them, long after I leave, to remain together."

love letter

"a stamp can’t be used again, only kept or discarded."

The Longest Goodbye

Oxford became a home I hadn’t known I was missing – a place that understood me without asking. 

The Ghosts She Felt Acutely

This year, with the inaugural Blackwell’s Short Story Prize, Cherwell aimed to reconnect with its roots as a literary magazine in the 1920s, when our undergraduate...

Letter from the Orient

This year, with the inaugural Blackwell’s Short Story Prize, Cherwell aimed to reconnect with its roots as a literary magazine in the 1920s, when our undergraduate...

A Short Sharp Shock to the Skull

This year, with the inaugural Blackwell’s Short Story Prize, Cherwell aimed to reconnect with its roots as a literary magazine in the 1920s, when our undergraduate...

Rhonda May

This year, with the inaugural Blackwell’s Short Story Prize, Cherwell aimed to reconnect with its roots as a literary magazine in the 1920s, when our undergraduate...

Any Blue Will Do

This year, with the inaugural Blackwell’s Short Story Prize, Cherwell aimed to reconnect with its roots as a literary magazine in the 1920s, when our undergraduate...

Splat!

This year, with the inaugural Blackwell’s Short Story Prize, Cherwell aimed to reconnect with its roots as a literary magazine in the 1920s, when...

Dindymene: A Dream

And on the seventh day, we found HER temple, feasted on HER sight. Enthroned. Flanked by mammoths on both sides. There, there! Berry-ringed fingers on berry-strung vines:...

In the Beginning

I was alone with the earth and the sun before youcame along: there was no life, no song, not even words.My hope had been...

To Julian – Ella O’Shea

you’re enwombed within stone, this anchorhold,wool on your skin, the draught on your feetink on your nose, barley in your teeth.to look at a...
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