fiction
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The others leave, one by one, and it ends up being just me and Ginger at the steps by the river, sipping from the bottle in lukewarm turns and staring out to the monstrous city lights that seem close but are worlds away. ‘Let’s get some chips,’ he says. ‘You go,’ I say, resigned. I…
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Are you there, Uncle? Can you hear me? It’s late. There’s someone on the phone. An unexpected caller. They say they’re approaching the house, and they may not be alone. http://www.inshortpublishing.com/shop1/uncategorized/interrupter/
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I’m waiting for the tram, at the junction. Waiting where the streets cross, and the lights change, and the cars stop and go in regular patterns, repeating over and over. Passengers stare and I stare back, like we’re sizing each other up. My tram’s late, so I have to keep waiting. And all the time…
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It’s the usual cafe, every Saturday. Today, Aaron asks for a banana milkshake, and his brother says he’ll have one too. “He always has the same as me,” says Aaron. And it’s true, the brother always has exactly the same, whatever it is. “Why do you have to copy me?” says Aaron, riled by his brother’s…
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I am waiting. I’m waiting for the bus, at the shelter near the corner where the streets cross. The lights change, the cars stop. Lights change, cars stop, over and over. Passengers stare and I stare back. We size each other up. The bus is late, but I have to keep waiting, and it’s cold…
Barry Lee Thompson 