I was trying to find a story to write about today that I could link to. However, I just could not find anything that grabbed me. This might have something to do with the fact that I'm knackered and reading small print off the screen of my laptop is making my eyes feel scratchy. So, I'm afraid I had to pick one out of an old-fashioned paper anthology and I'm afraid I couldn't find an online link to it. Sorry. Must try harder tomorrow.
Anyway, this one grabbed me in my tired state. I found it in a short story anthology I picked up from a second hand bookshop in Brisbane called Paper Windows. The book was called Paper Windows, no the shop. Although, that would be a BRILLIANT name for a second hand bookshop. But apart from that I can't find that much information on the story, or the author, apart from the fact it was written in 1978 and he is English. And he has a really cool name. Seriously, who wouldn't want to be called Terry Tapp?
In a nutshell...
A man is rifles through his morning mail and comes across a letter from his younger lover. He contemplates his dilemma of whether he could leave his wife for her.
My favourite quote...
She placed the egg in the boiling water, noticed that the shell had cracked and said 'Damn,' causing a cylinder of ash to fall from her cigarette into the boiling water.
If I smoked (which I don't), I could so easily see myself doing this.
Bits and pieces I will take away...
This is short, but very satisfactory. And very clever. And kind of funny. The ending made me gasp and then giggle and then shake my head in a 'you-sneaky-little-short-story-writer so of way. And I can't really say much else about this as I will be a big old ruiner and ruin the smarty-pants ending.
Hopefully I'll find something with a link tomorrow, but I'm not making any promises.