Hannah Nolan

Hannah Nolan is an illustrator from Ireland and teaches international primary school. She currently lives in Baku, Azerbaijan, and has resided in Prague, Long Island, Dublin and Madrid.

In her last year of university, Hannah Nolan specialized in Visual Arts for children, a specialization she uses each day in the classroom.

Find more of Hannah’s work on http://hannahnolanillustrator.com/

Stories illustrated by Hannah Nolan

No Fury

Written by Joshua L. Boutell

Ryan stood in the hotel room, listening to the water trickle past in the stream behind the building. They hadn’t shut the sliding glass door. He shuffled his feet, and he stared out at his mother and the stranger in the blue suit. He bit his lip, watching the man rest his two button suit …


A Forgotten Feast

Written by Kristina England

Karima woke with a start. She looked at the calendar, smiled, and jumped out of bed, pushing her stuffed dog aside. She ran into the living room, her padded socks plunking the floor. Her brunette hair was spewed out in various directions. Bedhead, her brother Hashim would have said with a roll of the eyes. He …


Making the Eyes

Written by Jeroen van Honk

It was dinner time and as usual they were all focused on that one monitor, about halfway up, on the left. “Here he comes,” Paul said. “Ah, yes! And there’s the daughter,” Kenny confirmed. They were all rather satisfied looking at the screen. They knew what was going to happen, but everyday again they were religiously pleased with …


Pituitary

Written by Timothy A. Clements

The doctor told me that culpability lay within the dark recesses of my pituitary gland; I could die at any time. Perhaps the size and severity of the lump protruding from the base of my hairline, perhaps if I had gotten it checked, then maybe I wouldn’t be in this predicament. Surely it wouldn’t have spread …


Fruit Breakfasts

Written by Gabrielle Reid

Jonathan, I got your letter. I saw the envelope in my mailbox, my parents’ address crossed out and mine filled in by my dad. I’m surprised they forwarded it to me at all. But then, perhaps they don’t recognise your handwriting like I do. I’m not angry anymore, just so you know. Some days when I …