Pancake by Mary Thompson
The man who is unable to love has left his girl again, vanished like a feral feline. ‘I hate the way that Pancake stares,’ he said before he left, complaining about how the cat would glare at him with unblinking eyes.
Mary Thompson
Frosty the Snowman by Mary Thompson
Frosty was the perfect husband. He never spoke and hid his feelings well, but he was nothing before he met me.
The Swan, The Sheep, and the Bejeweled Mirror by Mary Thompson
Late last night Barney pinged me, a man I barely knew but liked, a bearded farmer I'd snogged once at a wedding.
Black Magic Woman by Mary Thompson
When I am 14, we skive school and go for chips, which we drown in vinegar and nosh on the swings overlooking the sea. A squally wind is blowing right in our faces but we keep eating the chips till they're gone.
Is This Our Lives Now? by Mary Thompson
I buy a cat for Christmas. So I now live on the top floor of a thirty two storey apartment block with a balcony, a spindly palm tree and a cat.
A Triptych by Mary Thompson
A little boy is blowing bubbles. They whorl and drift and swirl and he reaches his arm into the air to catch one. Pop! His blonde sister giggles and shoots some more, while an elderly lady staggers up, hand on hip to watch.
