22 Britannia Road

Memories shrink. Like a soap bar used over and over, they become deformed, weaker scented, too slight and slippery to hold.

Januz feels glad to have her in his arms--his wife, who would do anything to protect their son. This is how she presents herself. Like a soldier who would kill for her country. And her country is their son.

He'd imagined peacetime would bring him a sense of belonging. During the war it kept him going, that thought of peace. He'd believed in it like a season he knew it would arrive one day

The dress means no harm, after all. And it is new. It carries nothing inside it but the possible beginnings of her downfall.

Doris is the first to speak. “So you’ve come back, have you? Why didn’t you stay with your fancy man?” “Janusz, where’s Aurek?” Doris glares at her. “Now you ask? His father put the poor little mite to bed.” Gilbert looks flushed and uncomfortable. “Doris, I think we should be getting home.” “I’ll go when I’m good and ready.” She dusts her hands across the front of her apron. “The poor little kid. Filthy trick if you ask me. And to think I felt sorry for you.” Silvana ignores Doris. She will not be intimidated in her own home. Not while it still is her home, at

The moon she stole, the sun she ate.

Marigolds have seeded freely through them all. They keep the vegetables happy and ward off insects.