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tell the driver the city centre, Leo’s, and he starts talking football, and we’re five minutes away before I realise. ‘San,’ I say. Nothing. ‘San, please. Not tonight.’ She’s looking away from me, out of the window. We’re already there. She gets out while I pay, and she’s up the front steps and inside with me still behind. Chris and Helen are at the table, and she walks over to them, and I’m following, thinking, maybe she’s ok. Maybe it was just the cab. She kisses them both. Hugs them. Sits. I’m watching her as I kiss Helen, shake Chris’ hand. She’s a hundred miles away. They notice straight away. ‘San,’ says Helen. ‘You ok?’ ‘She’s not feeling too great,’ I say, and I give them the look. And then it’s as if she’s just not there. The three of us talk. We even laugh. San drinks a little water. When the waitress comes, I order for her, and no one says a word about it. It’s easier when the food comes, at least for a few minutes. We can eat, not talk, and it feels almost normal. San eats a few mouthfuls, then ÉCLAT FICTION

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MAY 2012

Profile for Eclat Fiction

Éclat Fiction - Issue 3  

The third issue of Éclat Fiction (an online short story anthology). www.eclatfiction.com

Éclat Fiction - Issue 3  

The third issue of Éclat Fiction (an online short story anthology). www.eclatfiction.com

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