The Listening Man
The listening man sat in his usual seat on the morning train to the city. He was wearing his usual black suit and round reading glasses. He leaned forward. Intent.…
The listening man sat in his usual seat on the morning train to the city. He was wearing his usual black suit and round reading glasses. He leaned forward. Intent.…
One summer morning over breakfast Arlene, Max’s wife of twenty-five years, announced that she was planning to have an affair. “Who plans to have an affair and tells the…
The first in a series of Commentary based on our continuing attempts to navigate life on the planet that is rural Ireland. The new gate sweeps up to an…
Mrs. Porter glared down at the statue. Lately, it seemed to be mocking her, fixing its stony gaze upwards towards this bathroom as if it hated her. “Well,” she…
After the intensity of last week's story I thought it might be time for another Sci-Fi film review/enactment to cheer things up. Or not. Because if you think about it,…
I am grown now, a woman with a child of my own. My sisters and I are still close: we keep in touch but never speak about the day…
When I was younger, I would write very long stories. I learned by doing this. I also had a 'wordy head' connected to lots of thoughts. Now, I want simplicity.…
Remembering my first months here during the drought of 1995. This bit of prose is part moment of reflection, part lament, at this fragile and unsettling time. June It…
There is a warm slow breeze connected by a thread, a breath, a whispered voice; a faint kiss brushing the cheek and drawing itself up, a wobbly child’s careful…
A note from me, the author. This is another story from 'So Long Polyester'. The first one I posted was 'Love, Like Stew'. The works contained in this collection are…