Small Things Like These
A coal merchant in 1985 Ireland notices something at the convent. Barely a hundred pages, and every one counts.
Start after dinner, done by dawn
Short, sharp, complete. One evening, one whole story.
A coal merchant in 1985 Ireland notices something at the convent. Barely a hundred pages, and every one counts.
Two sisters, a river on the edge of Faerie, and a song older than both. Folklore that sings, done in a sitting.
Keiko has worked in the same convenience store for eighteen years and is perfectly happy. Everyone else has notes.
Paris, a room, and a love David cannot let himself keep. Slim, brutal, beautiful.
Getting married in the summer of 2017, while the news sets itself on fire. Feral, funny, and over in an evening.
A two-thousand-year-old reply to anyone who says they do not have time to read.
A pampered dog is stolen and sold into the Klondike gold rush. Short, fierce, unforgettable.
A river journey into the Congo and into a man named Kurtz. Short, dense, unshakeable.