It Was Summertime

She was sitting across from him, or vice versa.

“I know you,” she said.

And he said, “Ah! But do you?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “I guess I don’t. Sorry.”


The train rattled on and they sometimes looked out of their windows. And sometimes they would see themselves and sometimes they would see themselves looking at themselves at themselves. And sometimes there was a version of themselves running over the hawthorn hedges that tried to keep up with the train bazzing past the green speeding trees staying in place and past all of this country as well.

What am I doing?

They looked at each other when that thought crossed their similar brains at the same time. It was a thought that bounced off the window. They smiled at each other then, just as the train derailed.



Anthony C. Murphy has worked and performed on the spoken word scene in Brighton, UK, and New York City for the last ten years. He has written several chapbooks, an illustrated children’s book Liberty Takes a Break and a novel – Shiftless – which is out now with Atmosphere Press.


Edited for Unlikely by Jonathan Penton, Editor-in-Chief
Last revised on Sunday, May 24, 2020 - 22:06