It hurt when she was taken from us so suddenly; after an unexpected diagnosis, immediate hospitalisation, and just a couple of weeks of furtive visits, she was gone. While her husband and children grieved, I couldn’t even attend the funeral, still the invisible and unknown member of her family.
Alastair Millar is an archaeologist by training and translator by trade, living in the Czech Republic. His flash fiction (and social media handles) can be found through linktr.ee/alastairmillar.
Sixty years with Alice, through good times and bad. She forgave me for the brief affair I had five decades ago, when I thought I was bored; now it’s the one thing she remembers through the dementia. I bury the shame as I care for her, tears in my eyes.
Alastair Millar is an archaeologist by training and translator by trade, living in the Czech Republic. His flash fiction can be found through linktr.ee/alastairmillar and he lurks on Twitter at @skriptorium as well as on Mastodon.
Their ships dropped from the clear Winter night like angels, the air as brittle as our so-called civilisation. By Spring we were defeated, but too stubborn to surrender. Summer turned, the Resistance organised itself, and we began to hope. But we would never see the stars the same way again.
Alastair Millar is an archaeologist by training, a translator by trade, and lives in the Czech Republic. His flash fiction can be found through linktr.ee/alastairmillar and he lurks on Twitter at @skriptorium.