Literary short stories about marriage, loss, and the quiet moments that change everything. A man changes a light bulb at midnight. A woman hands her husband a paper towel. A phone rings twice and stops. Nothing much happens. Everything changes.
These are stories about people who have lost things - jobs, houses, children, the ability to say what they mean. They sit in kitchens. They watch rain fall. They hold hands across tables. They try again.
Set in cramped kitchens, cold porches, dark bedrooms, and the front seat of a packed car, the fourteen stories in Things We Do Without Speaking trace the quiet geography of domestic life. A marriage tested by infidelity. A father who cannot call his son. A woman who walks past a locked church. A man who watches his wife sleep at three in the morning.
These are not stories of grand gestures. They are stories of the precise, small moments that define a life: the sound of ice dropping into a glass, the smell of rain on pavement, a loose board finally nailed down. In these pages, domestic fiction meets the kind of quiet emotional truth that stays with you long after the last page.
Praise for Things We Do Without Speaking
"These stories arrive quietly and settle somewhere deep."