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A fish falls out of the sky,

it hits the van in front of you,

sliding slowly down the side and landing on the pavement.

Every time you pass it, you look through the window at the bottom of the street.

Even if you have to crane your neck to see in.

Your sight is slightly obscured by the net curtain, the tv is on in the corner. It’s early.


You look out to the house across the way. The light pushes round the edges of the blind.

The window glows orange in the grey.


Only temporary, but for that time it’s yours and for that time it’s true.

The blind is up.

The fish falls down.

The tv isn’t on.

Maybe she’s out.

That Chopping Sound is a sporadic zine, sometimes taking a month to make, other times only a day. A collaboration of fragmented writings, small town news stories, blind dates, trout, unruly pigeons, long lost sofas and successful car boot sales. Formed around an interest we have in the scattering of narrative, the publication is a platform for us to share ideas and stories, expanding our own practices in the process.

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