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Short story category: 10 Minutes

‘Happy birthday. It’s not much but I didn’t really have any time to shop. It’s just been so busy at work and, well, you know what it’s like. Well, you don’t actually, but anyway… happy birthday.’ I regard the hastily wrapped parcel my sister is offering and manage a weak smile. I

It arrives in a long, plain box, spattered with raindrops. ‘Are you going to open it?’ ‘Later,’ Thom says. ‘Let’s enjoy lunch.’ ‘Don’t you want to see it?’ ‘I’d rather spend time with you.’ That means: I’ll open it when you’re not here.   Last

In my perverse mind it’s summertime: that hot summer of 1976. Which it could not have been, since Lukey was born in January. Even so, I persist in seeing it this way. Seeing my mother, in bikini and tie-dyed sarong, drifting from shaded bedroom to sun-scorched balcony, a whiff of coconut suntan lo

Amr was cogitating on Time – or to be more precise, timing. Like most gamblers he had a very large and capacious mind, and could think his way round to the latest cutting-edge research, say, on unicorns and UFOs. The way he figured it, standing there in the small, square, white-walled kitchen, was

The spherical woman sat at a table adjacent to and just below the raised wooden platform at the end of the village hall. Constructed to make a stage for visiting acts, it was now all but redundant. Acts rarely visited. The village was too remotely placed and so removed from decent roads that enterta

On the first Sunday in November, at six o’clock sharp, as visiting hours at the retirement home ‘Peace’ begin, kyra Efthalia’s daughter arrives. She works as an administrative assistant at the hospital of Patras, two blocks down the street, but she usually visits once a month. She’s wearin

I’d been badgered for a while by mum to get a Saturday job but this time the threat felt real. Dad was kind of on my side, but he also was adding the pressure lately. ‘You have to get a job, Michael. We're not going to pay for another computer game, and that’s that,’ my mother said. â€

It was 2.56am when it occurred to Emma that she could not remember the name of her childhood friend’s cat. Lindsey had been her timid next-door-but-two-neighbour, and her cat had been completely black with an incongruously bright pink nose. Emma’s daughter had reminded her of the creature that e