“Parade is a pop lit gem. With neon prose, Graves weaves a tale of two heroes, Reggie and Elmer, who are trying to sort out the mess that is America. Government, religion, civic responsibility, general kindness. The lessons in Parade might just be the answer.” – James Frey – Author of A Million Little Pieces, Bright Shiny Morning and
If pushed, Maisie said the TV was crap, the weather was crap, the food was gross and the art gave her nightmares. But Grandad was OK. That was, if pushed. Usually Maisie’s phone conversations were a series of grunts and monosyllables. Her mother let her express her feelings. ‘O.K., talk to you on Wednesday, Green
It’s strange how very good or bad news hits you from out of nowhere. So thought Michael Vogt as he lay down, drowsy after a simple yet full lunch. He had woken today futureless and unemployed. Then the phone rang. The call had vitalized him, setting his mind abuzz all morning with his changed fortunes.
“What’s on the Moon tonight?” I’m so sick of that question. Every single day I get asked that same thing. As though I’m some kind of expert! I’m no more of an expert than anyone else in the office. I can search online, just like everyone else can. I don’t understand why Dan always asks
The West Lighthouse is the taller of the two, a simple structure that is pleasing in its symmetry, a tower of patchwork stone. The original oil-fuelled beacon that once guided sailors safely to the pier was later replaced by electricity, but even that has long-since burned out. Now all that can be seen is the
A story for Ieva We move in right before new year. Glasgow, Scotland, as the Americans say. Top-floor flat. Cold, bare, tall ceilings. I am used to terraced houses in a way I don’t quite understand, and the tenements impress me. They are surprisingly solid, hard – like the first time you punch someone’s face.
“You ok mate? You look a bit down. Everything alright? What’s up? What’s happening? Nothing. It’s ok. I’m ok. Honest. It’s just, well, I didn’t want to put all my problems onto you. It’s not fair. You’ve your own problems to deal with. You don’t need mine too. Come on mate. Don’t be like that.
Doug liked his volunteer gig driving Barney to hospital appointments. The guy made him laugh, the way he flipped wildly from one topic to another like a human pinball machine. A fast talker for a guy dying slowly. Doug had Deb to thank for suggesting that he volunteer in the first place. He just couldn`t
From: k*****@*******.com Sent: Monday, 15 May, 20— 6.38 pm To: m*****@*****.com Subject: vase Dear M, It was such a surprise to bump into you at the fair on Saturday. To be honest, I nearly didn’t go over to your stand, but I overheard you talking to another customer about your process and your favourite glazes,
I am that kid on a grubby, dirt street in Bihar. Where rats scamper in sheets of blackness along channels of moss laden ditches. Where throngs of decrepit, wooden stalls, not more than a foot away from these nostril-filling canals, populate the air with–quite paradoxically–aromatic street food. Litti accompanied by a side dish of roasted