Tangerines and Wild Garlic

by Steve Toase

About the Author: Steve Toase lives in Munich, Germany. His work has appeared in Shimmer, Lackington’s, Aurealis, Not One Of Us, Hinnom Magazine, Cabinet des Feés and Pantheon Magazine amongst others. In 2014 Call Out (first published in Innsmouth Magazine) was reprinted in The Best Horror Of The Year 6. From 2014 he worked with Becky Cherriman and Imove on Haunt, the Saboteur Award shortlisted project inspired by his own teenage experiences, about Harrogate's haunting presence.

Excerpt

Ben pulled the car in by the kerb and insisted they got out to stare at the vast drapes cascading over the metal pole. Wild garlic buffeted down from nearby woodland and scented the sodium lit road.

“I don’t get it,” Sarah said, arms around her waist as she tried to keep the cold at a distance.

“What’s to get? It’s a local tradition. They’re just like flags.”

They reminded Sarah of medieval tents. Striped pavilions draped high above their heads. Far out of reach of grasping fingers. She reached her hand up just in case.

Ben wrapped himself around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. His breath tainted with cheap motorway services coffee.

“I still don’t get it,” she said.

“It’s just something the town does every year,” he said, turning back to the car and closing the door. Waiting until she climbed back in before starting the engine.

“We never use the same patterns,” Ben’s mother said, reaching behind her for a photo album from the bookcase. A slight hint of the just finished chicken and roast potatoes lingered over the dinner table.

“Mum, Sarah doesn’t need to see them,” Ben said, making a half-hearted attempt to stop her.

His Dad poured more wine.

“Your mum is proud of her work. She’s embroidered the festival covers for thirty years. Longer than you’ve been alive, Ben.”

Story Comments