Rush Hour nominated for #BIFFY50

rush hour
photo: Fabrizio Verrechia

My flash fiction Rush Hour, featured over at Fictive Dram in August of this year, has been nominated for the 50 Best British and Irish Flash Fiction 2018-2019 list.

The flash was nominated by Adan Lock.

Big thanks go to Adam, and editor Laura Black at Fictive Dream for their support.

You can read  Rush Hour here.



My story is on the Solstice Shorts Festival 2018 longlist

sols shorts

I have a short story longlisted for the Solstice Shorts Festival 2018.

The micro festival, which this year has the theme of noon, takes place on 21st December and will be spread across six sites – Aberdeen, Edinburgh, Carlisle, Ynys Mon, London and Cork.

The shortlist is announced at the end of October.

Last year my short story The Dusk Runner was chosen for the festival. It was read at the Ynys Mon and Devon sites, and published in the book to accompany the event.


I have an essay in One Song zine issue #1

I have an essay in a brand new zine.

one song

One Song carries essays from writers writing about one song that is special or resonates with them.

My own essay is about Jesse by Scott Walker, from his 2006 album Drift. The song is named after Elvis Presley’s still born twin brother; in it, I talk about how the song has preserved Presley’s legacy more appropriately than those who are officially tasked to look after it.

More info here.



Chemical Cosh short story part of Fictive Dream’s September Slam 2018

sept slam

My short story Chemical Cosh is one of seven chosen for Fictive Dream‘s September Slam 2018, between 24 and 30 September.

Chemical Cosh examines lust and longing, with a tiny bit of love thrown in for good measure, from a feminist perspective.

It is inspired in part, like all seven stories, by these sentences from short story writer, novelist and publisher, Nicholas Royle:

I met him in a faded restaurant in a small, rainy town on the main line between Brussels and Paris. There were mirrors on the walls all around the room. 

The full list of writers making up the Slam Seven are:

Helen McClory, It Seems Impossible It Could Ever Begin

Steve Carr, The Albatross

Sarah Daniels, Eat To Live

Dave Wakely, Dear Damian

Rachel Stevenson, On The Brussels Train

Cath Bore, Chemical Cosh

Adam Kotlarczyk, Farewell To Europe

The Word for Freedom: short stories of women’s suffrage

The Word for Freedom, to be published by @RetreatWest in November carries my short story The Second Brain.

word for freedom

My story revolves around issues of consent, and by the bravery of women  before and during and after #MeToo. The  ebook version is available for pre-order, paperback details to follow.

Fellow contributors include Angela Readman, Victoria Richards, Sophie Duffy, Angela Clarke, Anna Mazzola, Helen Irene Young, Karen Hamilton and more.

We’ll Always Have Paris read at Bristol Flash Walk on NFFD

poppy hocken

My flash fiction We’ll Always Have Paris was part of this year’s Bristol Flash Walk. It was read by actor Poppy Hocken on National Flash Fiction Day a few weeks ago.

Thanks to Judy Darley for organising the event.

You can read my story below:


We’ll Always Have Paris

The world outside throws a gloss of lemon early morning light into the room, and nudges her gently from her slumber. This bedroom, his bedroom, has high sash windows and there’s a half full bottle of cabernet sauvignon on the table. Like the wine, his kisses last night were delicious, and very French. The sun inches its way up into the sky through the open window, she’s curled up against the warm of his back and in her woozy half dream she lazily paints a wild Parisian romance, cars gliding past the window, engines purring softly, neat cobbled side streets so easily, magically, navigated in heels, air sweetened by an accordion, cafes, Gauloises cigarettes and tiny cups of strong black coffee carrying a single mouthful, no more.

She blinks herself awake. In the bathroom she finds a tube of Colgate, squeezes it onto her finger and rubs her teeth minty, and puts a fresh layer of lipstick over the one that got snogged clean. She combs her hair with her fingers, fluffs her fringe just right, and gets out of this place. Her shoes clatter onto a pavement dotted with flattened splats of chewing gum, urban glitter. In the street the sun is so bright it hurts her eyes and everything’s loud and big. A postman in a jacket of a far-too-cheery-red hisses a tuneless song through his teeth. He holds a raft of junk mail and brown envelopes from the government in his hand. He scans her thigh high hem and skyscraper stilettos. His mouth puckers into a smirk.

She slaps him down with a tight look, and lifts up her chin. The postman’s not saying walk of shame out loud, but thinking it. There’s no shame in her walk. She holds her gold clutch bag high, the new morning turning the sequins into diamonds. They sparkle and shine for her. She tosses her head like a queen, ‘cos that’s exactly what she is, right? A bus across the way honks in tribute and rattles in applause. She says thank you silently, to herself, for choosing a top showing her décolletage at its finest advantage. Curving her lips into a smile, she brushes flecks of invisible dust from her skirt and, swaying her hips, sashays home with a strut.

(c) Cath Bore 2018


My flash Body Beautiful was also part of the NFFD 2018 celebrations, published in the Flash Flood Journal here.