The New Generation of Classic Short Stories

Vol. 14, No. 4


by Gerard Donovan

The pram was unattended.
     Outside the cinema with nothing to do, I wandered into the amusement park nearby. Across the road the beach, too, was packed, people on their week’s holidays from East London and other places, from cotton mills and mines and drapery shops, come by train to spend a bit of August by the coast in a cramped room in a guesthouse with a shared bath and kitchen, happy to be at the sea and to forget their lives, to be in Margate. 

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