Tag: Short Story

It’s so cold here. If I was at home I’d have to switch the heating on. She’d be calling me, nagging me, summoning me, until I did it, and made her a hot water bottle too while the house warmed up. She can’t stand the cold. She can’t stand any discomfort. And it’s my job…

The dogs and I don’t go as far as we used to. Instead of the half-mile jog to the mailboxes at the top of the road or sometimes to the river another half-mile beyond, it is all Cabo can do to limp alongside me for a few hundred yards. Loma stays close in the alfalfa…

“But I have another question?” Mack was again told to take his butt outside. To go take advantage of the beautiful day. Go get some fresh air. Go play. Go do something. She didn’t care where or what. Just as long as it wasn’t there. She needed a break from him. And at some point,…

A rocking in the wind – rattled windows and a tremor. From night came a turbulence so maddening that he closed his eyes and covered his ears. Maybe, if he shouted, the deafening sounds – its frightening clash would subside. So. He shouted, sitting on the kitchen floor with his legs crossed. The wood of…

She hesitates before she places the phone to her ear. Always one to text or email but rarely one to call. He knew this well but rings anyway. She squeezes her eyes shut, and flecks of colour erupt across the backs of her eyelids.

I’ve been on this park bench since the gates opened, trying to work out if the woman opposite is an old mother or a glamorous gran. Then the baby she’s holding cries, and she unbuttons her blouse to suckle it. I bow my head so she doesn’t think I’m staring. Her drinks can falls, which…

As I crawl out of my hiding place after the storm has passed, I realise I am alone. I shout, though my lips are chapped and stinging, and struggle to form the words as the harsh, cold air floods my throat. The winds have been intolerable the last few days, with drifts up to a…

The cow lows in the field behind my house as the sun sets, purple and orange and pink against the wheat fields on the street that’s still called Lenin. When the night sky goes from blue to black and the stars shine above me in a panorama unbelievable, the crickets chirp, and the moths and…

The screaming starts even though we’re still five minutes away. My daughter recognises the landscape: the goldenrods that crowd the guardrails, the white pines gazing over the highway, and the exit leading to the lavender farm. I imagine myself leaning over and jerking the steering wheel out of Greg’s grasp, heaving us out of traffic…

Baravin Erdelan looked across at the American, sitting stiffly in the air-conditioned, luxury Hummer. They were speeding through the streets of Erbil in the searing heat of the midday sun. Most of the cars on the streets were white, but this one was matt black. Baravin saw his face reflected in the lenses of the…