‘She was so understanding, so interesting, such an intellectual. She was also a wristwatch, but this hardly mattered.’
‘Last summer, the boy still believed in miracles. That’s why he disobeyed his father and crossed the bridge. He wondered, back then, if his mother might be over there.’
‘I saw the bodies. They were blotched under the skin where the blood had clotted & pooled. I have never seen the dead so dead.’
‘Here I should stress that dog memory is not at all like human memory, and that human memory, from a dog’s point of view, would seem strange, clunky, unnatural and deceptive.’
‘Her body poured away inside the too-tight cotton suit and only her bloodshot feet, almost purple in the torturing sandals, had any kind of substance.’
‘Bonsai have always prompted a kind of fear in me, or at least a puzzling discomfort.’
‘I was only nine when I took to practicing the art of not waving. I felt an exhilarating power surge inside me and I ran all the way home, punching the air as I went.’
‘Isn’t it sweet to look back at how my mind jumped to the most innocuous conclusion? That after so many years, at seventy-two, my imagination was still so naive?’
‘The church has no thoughts. The church is brick and glass. If they ever slept there, they would see that.’
Reyah Martin’s ‘Wherever Mister Jensen Went’ is the 2020 Commonwealth Short Story Prize regional winner from Canada and Europe.
‘Sometimes, in the midst of one of our arguments, he would say to me sadly, I understand you more if I understand less.’
‘You’re gonna want to go down the other side of the mountain and check out the Facility. Don’t do it.’
‘I looked around at my apartment, wondering if there was anything gazing back.’ New fiction from Lincoln Michel.
Nathalie Léger, translated from the French by Natasha Lehrer.
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