Voyages to Nowhere Sophia parted the curtains of maroon velour and ducked into the room. This was Devereux’s new venue. She was greeted on the other side by Françoise, whose stout hand proffered a glass of hot tea. Sophia was familiar with this tea. It was brewed from a blend of black leaves and mushrooms, Read More …
Never the Same Again The self-styled philosopher with whom I share this little concrete cage tells me this: a normal life is like, say, a fancy ring with jewels. It’s your basic circle, birth to death, studded with a few major turning points. But I’ve had a lot of time for reading and thinking lately, Read More …
Centaurs I can remember the time when the centaurs still used to come down to the market. They were shy creatures, ill at ease among crowds, and thus used to set out their wares at the very edge of the market, on the patch of waste ground beside the railway. The market was held weekly Read More …
Atlantic City It was Francis’ sense of boredom that was the catalyst for an early-afternoon jaunt into nearby Atlantic City. Traffic, even at this hour, was still thicker than he’d remembered in the past. And then Atlantic City loomed ahead, the new casinos poking up against the familiar skyline. It was much easier, of Read More …
The Tunnel Diner Headlights flickered past the windows, moving west from the Holland Tunnel. We were the only customers in the diner.   Ashton had asked me why I came to New York, but I countered his question with one of my own. “What about you? How did you end up here?”   He laughed. Read More …
Beard Anno Domini 1645   Hob died at Naseby aged 16, his breast pierced by a Roundhead pike. As he fell he cried three times “Beard, Beard, Beard”, but such was the din of battle that no one heard him. His father, beside whom Hob had so proudly set off for the south to fight Read More …
Refresh My Memory Benson Randall awoke one morning with someone else’s memories.   At first everything was normal: he sat up in bed and stretched, then got up and stumbled empty-headed across his one-room apartment to the coffeemaker. It was a few minutes later—after he had splashed his face, thrown on jeans and a t-shirt, Read More …
Resurrection By the time the next tsunami hit, at dawn, Father Flanagan’s main concern was for the nuns. Their children’s mission, on another island miles away, was at risk. But he couldn’t help them now, not at this moment, not as the transforming sky took all his breath away. His eyes had never seen such Read More …
Habeas Corpus The air hung heavy on a cold morning or night in mid July, depending on whether or not you were able to sleep. Most people had stopped a few years back, instead choosing to watch the news channel which ran twenty-four hours a day. Everyone watched the same channel; it was the last Read More …
An English Story In a land of reclaimed rivers, pulverized minerals and wheeler-dealers, were three men who formed a psycho-anarchic syndicate. They all desired the same woman.   The three of them made a vast inverted triangle over southern England, with Sydney Gristmill occupying the apex in Bridport, Dorset, not far from Portland Castle. Sydney Read More …
