Popshot Magazine

You might be wondering who the person on our cover is. That noble side profile doesn’t look much like the whiskered King of Hearts who ordinarily graces playing cards. No, this king is the Italian poet Dante Alighieri, whose epic poem, The Divine Comedy, has been studied and enjoyed since the Middle Ages. At the opening of Inferno, or hell, Dante describes his heart as being like a lake, a reference to the vast and sometimes complex landscape at our physical core. In fact the word “cuore” in Italian means heart but also emotion, or spirit. The idea of a lake of spirit summed up our feelings about the role of a heart, which is functional, but also wildly literal in the way it moves emotion through us. As always,…

So, you take this arrow, anchor it to your bow and you just…shoot! The curly haired man said, releasing it through the air, aimed squarely at a woman on the tour boat. They watched as a smile broke on her face and her head turned, drawn to the man with a backpack besides her. See? he said. That’s all there is too it, but make sure you’re not seen. Things get messy otherwise, let me tell you. I don’t have the energy to do it all myself every year, but you can practice on the animals if you’re nervous. Plenty of pigeons about. Fearne stood under the old timber walkway and looked out to the Thames. She held the cold arrows between her fingers, admired the swirling Baroque pattern that…

I lie on my right side, wired up to the machine,gel smeared on my chest. I can see the screenas the probe slides. I recognise the heart chamberspulsing in segments like those of a pregnancy scan,but make no sense of the multi-coloured lightningflickering in a thundercloud, nor of a line of skyscrapersand a procession of sailing barges reflected in calm sea,all accompanied by glooping sounds like a radiatorfilling with air bubbles from a central heating pump. Six weeks on, a letter from the cardiologist:there’s aortic stenosis and regurgitation,but neither too severe. Though a heart valveis slightly narrowed, my left ventricle is functioningas it should. I’ll be reviewed a year further on:nothing to get too concerned about, yet.…

Dale types text to overlay the photo: You are about to receive ten thousand dollars! Type yes if you believe! He clicks save, names it, using a naming format he’s adopted to keep track of his thousands of affirmations, then pulls up the next photo, a generic sunrise. He switches screens to his running list of affirmations. Closing his eyes, he calls upon his intuition to make his gaze alight on the right phrase. He looks at the screen. His eyes land on All that you have experienced was only preparation for this moment. Type yes if you believe! He repeats it in his mind three times to give it intent, then switches screens to the meme-making app and types in the text to overlay an image, saves it, names…

You tell yourself you won’t be like those American mothers, seduced by consumerism – their false promises for a happier baby that make you a better mother. Then you find yourself at Mummy & Me Paper Maché, asking to see the TwinnTM catalogue the others are passing around. A doll for your irreplaceable child that looks just like her. All the mothers are doing it. Please provide a photo from each angle listed. Circle the skin tone that best represents your child. Nothing quite matches your daughter – a precise combination of your jaggery and his “tar.” A colour that justified disowning you. Attach a three-inch lock of hair. Measure the width of your child’s nose. Both, like his. Not enough of you to be taken back. This paperwork details…

Late July The music was still playing when Dalton Changoor vanished into thin air. Marlee, Dalton’s young wife, had only realised he was gone when the winds swept up the yellow tarp that usually covered his red Chevrolet pickup. The tarp now thrashed, flabellate, between two coconut palms. Against the lightning, it looked like a giant long-winged harrier in descent. The study, where Dalton had left a record of Roaring Lion’s “Ugly Woman” playing, was vacant. As was the porte cochère where he usually kept his pickup parked. Though his sudden absence concerned Marlee, she didn’t let it weigh on her thoughts. That was until she found a note on the kitchen table, written in a hasty scrawl: Leave the doors locked. I have the spare key with me. Tell…