heritage Archives - The Hyacinth Review

Of Many Things I Have No Clear Remembrance

Dani Salvadori — Mon, 26 Aug 2024 03:00:00 +0000

By the age of 30 my mother’s father, Misha, had had four surnames, lived in six countries and spoke nine languages. By 35 he had settled in London and become British, his third nationality. He died when I was a child. I barely remember him. § There were many stories about Misha and his family.…

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There should be stories

Mary Silvia Winter — Wed, 01 Nov 2023 04:00:00 +0000

The little flat seemed very empty at first. Ursula kept apologising. ‘Of course they can only let one of you live in each unit, sweetheart, because of Covid.’ Jade understood that. The student life she had been dreaming of for years had involved sharing a flat with five other people, tripping over each other in…

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Corned Beef Hash

Bex Hainsworth — Mon, 30 Oct 2023 04:00:00 +0000

Previously published in The Coachella Review Thursday, my grandmother and I are preparing corned beef hash for dinner. The tins are stacked, blue bricks, each one built like a bomb-shelter. Standing on a stool, she shows me how to twist a pendulum key around the beef’s metal skin and empty the safe without breaking the…

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On Hearing of My Father’s Death

Ion Corcos — Fri, 27 Oct 2023 03:00:00 +0000

The frangipani air is thin with drought and memories of my father.

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Iconography

Alejandra Cabezas — Thu, 26 Oct 2023 03:00:00 +0000

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House Finches

John Muro — Wed, 25 Oct 2023 03:00:00 +0000

The small charm of migrants has returned and with them the making of another year’s nest tucked behind our wreath of maiden-head fern and lemon grass. There’s no accounting for how they keep the threads of memory tucked within their tiny heads, noting the seasons that came and went, the quirky ways of wind and…

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Toasting

Jane Ayres — Mon, 23 Oct 2023 03:00:00 +0000

Previously published online in (mac)ro(mic), May 2021 Each doorstep-thick slice impaled on a long fork licked by flickering orange flames,I toast bread over an open fire while Nan fetches butter from the pantry meat-safe. Cut from stoic cloth, she raised fifteen children in this tiny house, witnessed two World Wars with milky-eyed, mustard-gassed Grandad, now…

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Making Decisions in the Supermarket

Emma Lee — Fri, 20 Oct 2023 03:00:00 +0000

She’s tearful, young enough to be my daughter, dithers between ramen pots. Pushes speed dial, it rings and rings. Name shows 엄마. I tap one: fish flavour ramen; the salt is the answer for grief.

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Dad’s Fibs And Road Hellos

Lyndsie Conklin — Thu, 19 Oct 2023 03:00:00 +0000

In the copper toned Ford, we sat without seatbelts on the covered bench seat. Country music hummed on the AM radio and the gravel rustled beneath the worn tires. He sat stern, one hand on the wheel one reaching for a beer. He told us fibs and historical candor, because he knew we believed all…

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At the Gate

Sharon Johnson — Wed, 18 Oct 2023 03:00:00 +0000

She was 98, hours dead, shrouded from her gnarled feet to her knotted shoulders by a hush of bleached linen. She was smaller, sleeker, smoother, as if she had stepped out of the rising dough of her earthly flesh, then laid down to collect her thoughts for a farewell speech or sneak a catnap before…

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