Fiction | March 01, 2010

The full text of this story is not currently available online.

This story was the first place winner in fiction in the 2010 Editors’ Prize.

“My first vodka as a married woman,” said Sarah. She sat against David and felt the day carry them toward each other. The hours passed at the pub, and they didn’t think of going home, although this was what they looked forward to: the privacy of their bed against smudged windows, its view of small gardens and the beat of trapped bees against glass that shook as the buses moved by.  Their bed was a long way from the colleges and the river, but the bells would still come over the roads and houses, and they would be alone, and married. The day moved them both toward the moment in which they would face each other in their bed, utterly familiar, and see that despite their marriage there was no change, and that this was just what they wanted.

Our 2014 Editors’ Prize is now open for submissions.

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