For Valentine's refuseniks out there. A free short story – click on the link to read the rest.
I called my best friend from the harbour.
‘He’s not coming.’
It’s not even that I was in love with the guy or anything, I was just sick of being let down. Another night on my own on the island. Usually I loved the dark sky, how the lights of the town weren’t bright enough to blot out the stars. You could stand on the pier and the cold air would cut into your lungs and the sea was always sucking and jumping under your feet, black and huge and unpredictable.
But this particular cold night was Valentine’s night – enough to depress me anyway, and the guy I’d been fucking had just called to cancel. It had been a glimmer of something, his coming out that weekend. To spend the night, to be with me for Valentine’s with all the nervous romantic trimmings. Maybe he was more than the guy I was fucking. Maybe he wasn’t entirely joking when he said we’d have really cute kids. Maybe despite the odd things about him, his funny soft accent and his perpetual solitude and inexplicable phone arguments with his Korean relatives, he might turn out to be a kind man.