Fiction: 1980s

Fiction of the Day


By Edna O’Brien

When the new shopkeeper arrived in the village he aroused great curiosity along with some scorn. He was deemed refined because his fingernails looked as if they had been varnished a tinted ivory. He had a horse, or as my father was quick to point out, a glorified pony, which he had brought from the Midlands, where he had previously worked. 

Halloween, Via Dolorosa

By Russell Working

Though it was pitch dark on the road where the Foxes parked and you tried to keep from stepping in the black puddles of icy mud when you looked up at the stars, North Main Street was brightly-lighted and decorated with lanterns and paper carved pumpkins in the windows, and the street was closed off with flashing barricades and crowded from one end to the other: from the tightly-packed mob around the bandstand where a punk band was pounding out grating music and jumping sometimes with their guitars, to the end of the road near Gepetto’s, where the crowd thinned out and everyone stopped and stood, puzzled and bemused, before turning back to walk again.