I ordered Nobody’s Child on Monday and it arrived on Thursday, two days after A Cancer Chronicle. Two books, two days apart. Wow. Nobody’s Child is a collection of short stories and Flash Fiction that deals with some difficult topics. A couple of the shorter pieces have appeared on these pages and will be familiar to the followers of this blog. Most of the material is new, some of it, very recent. Some of the stories have been published, others have received awards and honorable mentions. A shortened version of the collection, under the same title, was given an Honorable Mention in the David Adams Richards Fiction Prize of the Writers’ Federation of New Brunswick in 2016.
Let the fiction begin: “… so this is earth day and we light candles in our house and turn off the telly and the computers and sit there reading and writing, watching each other through the flicker of the candle flames, and listening to the sounds of the house, such subtle sounds, the creak of the siding, the click of a door, a blind moving in the room overhead, the tick of the grandfather clock in the hall … and the smoke rises from the candles and makes dark patterns in the stillness of the air … and yet, through the blackness, the bleakness of the candle smoke, a hand reaches out and holds me by the nape of the neck, and thrusts me back into a past which once again has come back to haunt me …”
Nobody’s Child is available on Amazon.
rogermoorepoet 
Looking forward to seeing this. Your earth day story is spooky. There is something about night and fire and flames extinguished that takes us back to our beginnings! Started a new blog yesterday, to manage my Meniscus work http://www.offplanet.blog
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Sometimes, Dearest Jane, I think that both of us live “off planet”. So glad to know you and to know that I am not alone.
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Lots of space out there to occupy!
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Wonderful book.congratulation.
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Thank you, Aruna. I hope it does well and is accepted. It’s always a gamble!
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Yeah.dear roger.i wish for ur successful work.
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Thanks for this copy too, Roger. My wife is now reading this. She doesn’t read my stuff. I am envious, perhaps even jealous.
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At least somebody is reading it … I think sometimes that these books are like messages in bottles … they float out on life’s sea and nobody ever sees them again. Please thank her, from me, for sending you over to us last night: it was a great visit.
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