by Oliver Eade | May 25, 2009 | Stories
The town was dead. Like the air-con in my old Buick. In that Alabama heat it seemed my brain might swell and burst out of my hot skull, so I pulled up at a MacDonald’s near the edge of the small town and got me an iced Coke to put out the fire in my brain. An old...
by Oliver Eade | May 25, 2009 | Stories
Violet was sitting at the kitchen table, totally absorbed in her book. Before her, on the table, was a cold cup of tea and a half-eaten biscuit. Her sister, Daphne, called out from her arm-chair throne in the sitting room: “Violet, are you going to just sit around all...
by Oliver Eade | May 25, 2009 | Stories
I remember running from the silence of the village to the silence of the fields; a small child running for help, running away from what he’d seen in the village. I remember stopping in the fields, held back by the smell of death. It’s still there, that smell, etched...
