Short Stories

Love Letter to Home

Literary Orphans Special: Scotland and the Scottish | 2017

She pulls me home, though, my country. She pulls me back to stand on the hill where I watched my father cut barley under the midday sun all the way through to the harvest moon.

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The Polish Veterinarian

The Southampton Review | Summer 2015

Zofija took a plum from the fruit bowl on the bar and tested her thumbnail against it. How much pressure before the skin gave? —Nope. Have to present myself back at the police station again next week. —What a nightmare having to go and plead with that Pole-hating policeman, Brenda said. The plum skin gave way and Zofija’s fingernails filled with orange-yellow fruit flesh. —Brenda, she said, squeezing until she reached hard stone, you have no idea. Brenda took the plum away and washed Zofija’s hand with a warm cloth.

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You Sweeten My Hours

Two Serious Ladies | July 2015

“I wanted this boy to watch Lolita, to show him what verbal adventures a native Russian speaker could have with another language, but I stopped myself. The boy might think I was sending a message, Lolita in reverse; an older woman with designs on a male nymphet. What would that be? A nymphoma? Sounds like […]

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potomac

What Business is it of Yours if I Love You?

Potomac Review | Issue 47

“I will be requiring brief but unfettered access to your husband, I will say to your wife. She will follow me to your bedroom door and before I close it on her, I will say, Kindly bring us, in one hour, two pink gins and an ashtray. Leave them outside the door.”

Time Laid Up In Store (Novel Extract)

Gutter 09 | August 2013

“I experimented with not saying goodbye; I stepped out the back door, as if for some air, and instead of going back inside, I slipped through the pine trees into the soft afternoon and the sanctuary of my caravan.”

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