A Minor Inconvenience by Ian Walker-Sperber
I woke up in the hollow of a spoon, my long blond hair floating atop the soup. I was ensconced in a hot minestrone.
I woke up in the hollow of a spoon, my long blond hair floating atop the soup. I was ensconced in a hot minestrone.
“I’ve noticed you’re a noticer,” my colleague said. That’s how it started. I’d complained to him about a house on a nearby street that I passed on my walk into work, where a car was slowly dissolving on the drive.
Occasionally even the scent of chip shop vinegar is enough to take Jenny back to her old redbrick road, the chafing cold of the privy, the knife-tear sensation so unexpectedly agricultural, anatomical, like she is a tree with a splitting limb.
Nathan Leslie’s latest novel, Van Boyle, traces the descent and ascent of a professional baseball player. Van is living rough, struggling and ill. Beginning here, at age 69. the novel proceeds backwards through the years of his life.
Featuring new work by Nadia Born, Bethany Bruno, Sherry Duggal, Rachel Hollis, Tess Kelly, Rosaleen Lynch, Patience Mackarness, Mandira Pattnaik, Tarmo Rajasaari, and Rob Walton.