Evenings and Weekends

by Oisín McKenna

She can see now that she stood to lose more than Peter in the event of a nuclear war, but surely that’s what a global catastrophe means for anyone: it’s not the loss of the world at large you mourn, it’s the loss of your world,

There are adults who thrive off the puncturing of children’s fantasies. Who did those children think they were? said the adults. What right had a child to their own happiness?

and Louis thought about paying attention as an act of love: he noted all the details of the day because he loved it, and loved Keith too, and that was all there was to it.

Her life, as it stands, can’t fit a baby, Ed, and herself inside of it. It would be too cramped. There’s only so much air. She needs to save it for herself. She wishes that air were more abundant than this. She doesn’t want to ration so carefully, but she needs to breathe too.