Fiction | July 25, 2017
A Small but Perfect Happiness
Edward Hamlin
The photos arrived at all hours, nearly always catching Sandra by surprise. She might be sorting through her mother’s things when the phone burbled with another text, or trying to weed the riotous mint from her myrtle beds, or dozing in defeat on the sunroom daybed, the afternoon having gotten away from her. Without her mother in the house it was often too quiet, but these were not interruptions she welcomed. Vrrrt, the intrusive little messenger would trill, and she’d know that another photo was waiting, or three, or ten, or even a bit of rocky video filmed as the sender wove down cobbled lanes or stepped over clods in vineyard rows.
This story is not currently available online.
If you are a student, faculty member, or staff member at an institution whose library subscribes to Project Muse, you can read this piece and the full archives of the Missouri Review for free. Check this list to see if your library is a Project Muse subscriber.
Want to read more?
Subscribe TodaySEE THE ISSUE
SUGGESTED CONTENT
Editors' Prize Winner
Apr 16 2024
Invasive Species
Invasive Species We couldn’t decide between killing lionfish or common starlings. Harry voted for lionfish because spearfishing them would require a trip to Florida, a place on the map contrary… read more
Fiction
Apr 16 2024
The Regal Azul
The Regal Azul They were somewhere over the Atlantic, south of the Grand Bahama, but beyond that, Lang couldn’t say. This absurd cruise ship, outfitted with every form of entertainment… read more
Fiction
Apr 16 2024
Semicolon People
Semicolon People If I spent four years in medical school, I’d want people to address me as “Doctor,” so I call my new psychiatrist “Dr. Reagan” even though my friend… read more