In Another World by Robert McBrearty
My son and my nephew, in their early thirties, both scientists, were sitting in my kitchen drinking and talking about going to Mars, while I stood at the stove flipping burgers.
It Never Really Happened by Jaime Gill
Guillem arrives late, as always, rapid-firing apologies at his boss as he bustles through the beach bar and pulls on his apron. He stops at my table first, pointing to my near-empty glass. “Another beer, Miss?” Miss. Sweet, when I’m old enough to be his mother.
Kingfisher by Rebecca Croser
My husband and I have our backs to the sea, fixed as we are on the puzzle. Plywood, 527 pieces, laser-cut with bird whimsies.
Background Noise by Peter DeMarco
Henry lived inside the lie of the film set. He was an actor, not really an actor, but an extra.
Shit Brick by Jack Barrie
Shit brick. That’s what my cousin Harry called it. He’s from Oxford. Nice down there. All the brick that way has a lovely gold-cream color to it, but I like our shit brick better.