Toby Wallis lives in Suffolk, UK. His work has appeared in Glimmer Train, The Nottingham Review, and elsewhere. He was awarded first place in Glimmer Train's Short Story Award for New Writers, and has been shortlisted for The Bridport Prize.
She had been seeing her therapist for almost seven months before she mentioned the photograph, and even then she brought it up incidentally like it was no big deal. Here’s how she remembers it: At the bottom of the garden in the house she grew up in was a small shed in which her…
The front window of the coffee shop explodes outwards as the bomb goes off. I see it clear as anything. It kills the young mother and her baby in the pram first, then it rips through the homeless man, bundled up in charity blankets on the other side of the path. The blast tears…
In the morning Webby was gone. The Sofa was empty, all the cushions piled up for a pillow, the blanket that Molly had given him half on the floor. The telephone was in the middle of the room, the cord pulled tight like a trip wire. Barbara put it back where it was supposed to…
I waved across the college car park as my classmates got into their cars and drove away. A few offered me a lift, but I had already called a taxi. It was just after nine. The sun had been down for four hours already and a light rain was starting to harden into fine…
