My story, The Megabus, has been included in Papaya Press’s WHAT SHE KNEW ZINE, which is a collection of responses to the work of Lydia Davis.
She is travelling on the Megabus, knowing that she is going to leave him.
Before he came home she had packed some things in a little pink bag, a child about to be disappointed, but then a mother cross with him, his movements, his voice, his ideas about things. She slept hugging his hand to her breast preparing for the parting, in a year, in two, in three months. His breath was heavy, annoying in her ear and she heard other things, a long, late train outside, a gun at the window, an unsafe childhood bed, a haunted house. In dreams other people fancied her and forward women stroked his chest.
In Liverpool, he calls to say he’s broken a lamp. He says he breaks everything, but it’s not true. She can’t think of anything else that he’s broken and that’s just the type of thing she would remember.