Short Story Sunday: In the Shadows

"That man over there is not quite well."

Karl-Hans throws his eyes in the direction of the voice. It was not directed at him, but at Felipe from Spain, who grumbles profanities at the empty space opposite him. And in the shadow of the church of all places.

"I don't want to sit in the sun," she says. 

"All right. What about over there? Just yonder."

There's Someone at the Door

Have you noticed how things are louder when you sleep? How the clock that ticks benignly in the lounge suddenly sounds like the countdown of a bomb strapped to your chest? Perhaps that's why husbands and wives had separate bedrooms back when: all that snoring and grinding of teeth is bound to get on someone's nerves.