The Sense of An Ending

The Sense of An Ending

That afternoon, he handed out a poem with no title, date or author’s name, gave us ten minutes to study it, then asked for our responses. ‘Shall we start with you, Finn? Put simply, what would you say this poem is about?’ Adrian looked up from his desk. ‘Eros and...
A Girl Is A Half-Formed Thing

A Girl Is A Half-Formed Thing

The house is dry and creaky. I am sopping on the floor. I hear him. No. Aunt or uncle rolling over in the bed. I’m not at peace here anymore. Now today. Glad. They’ll be gone. Still. I hear something. I know that step. Forty-one just like new. He is coming early down...
Creation Lake

Creation Lake

As little Franck talks about why he thinks adults are afraid of children’s sexuality, someone in the background rides by on a loud motorcycle. Franck turns his head to look. He’s nine, but his body language is that of a teenager: he wants to know what’s going on...
Journey To The End Of The Night

Journey To The End Of The Night

The sky in Rancy is the same as in Detroit, a smoky soup that bathes the plain all the way to Levallois. Cast-off buildings bogged down in black muck. From a distance the chimneys, big ones and little ones, look like the fat stakes that rise out of the muck by the...
Luster

Luster

I go back inside and throw on my least wrinkled dress. I look into the mirror and practice my smile because they moved me to a desk where my manager can see my face, and I have noticed her growing concern. Management claims they moved me so that I am more accessible...