May 31, 2025 | Fiction
Her mood was a little off when I arrived. Or, not off (who was I to judge?), just unfamiliar. She took a long time hanging up my coat. “Are you okay?” But she didn’t do well with direct questions like that. As per our ritual we immediately went grocery...
Sep 19, 2008 | Fiction |
Post addressed to Jonathan Fitch came through my letter-box, and that was who I was. I had a National Insurance number and an account at Lloyds; I had a shoe size and a blood type and a bunch of keys. I was twenty-eight years old and not too bad looking; in the past,...
