“// A man // pushes on // to get inside // the carriage before I’ve had time // to step down
and, without thinking and certainly without hinges I am holding out my hand and placing a finger in the middle of his forehead.
He freezes. The carriage freezes, a carriage steamed-up and bulbous with umbrellas and the slapping batskin wings of waterproof jackets.”
From “alight at the next” by Eley Williams (3AM Magazine).
New Short Stories 