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October 2013, vol 9, no 3

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Brendan Slater


As I enter the pharmacy, she glances from above her monitor located at the back. Our eyes meet and we smile. "Hallo, Brendan!" she calls, rolling her R and emphasising the 'dan', with a flat A. I never remember her name but she is reminded of mine weekly in green and blue. I know she'll fill it for me. The assistants are always telling her they are postdated but I've heard her: "Oh, never mind, Brendan is a good boy". "Good boy", I smile, this time inwards.

into the fog
the rattle of a blister pack