shortstory
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There are too many choices, and he can’t decide, so in the end he stays home and does some laundry. He sits outside on the battered chair and watches the washing drying on the line. While he watches, he smokes cigarettes and drinks milky coffee. He’s forgotten the ashtray so he flicks the ash onto
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Mrs Morelli came into the living room while Martin was waiting for Yvonne to get ready. Yvonne had left the door open on the way upstairs, but her mother closed it over. She went to the fireplace and lowered the gas fire. A packet of Embassy Number 1 was in its usual place on the
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He returned to footpaths and fields he remembered from his childhood. Once upon a time, they’d played here, where adults never roamed. In those days, they’d paid no heed to the signs, or the warnings, or the fenced-off areas. As children, they’d believed themselves the owners of all of this. And perhaps they hadn’t been
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