It Was Just, Yesterday

On Christmas Eve, a girl stalks an older man through wintery city streets, haunted by their shared past... In a remote woodland cottage, an eccentric explains to his granddaughter why he shoots cats whenever they make themselves too comfortable... In a checkout queue, a woman suddenly shows charity to a penniless guy she apparently doesn't know... The characters in Mirja Unge's debut collection are all, in their own way, evading something; whether failing to confront the true nature of an encounter, or avoiding responsibilities as a parent, sibling or friend. Abuse, betrayal and neglect lurk beneath a veneer of mutually maintained normality , waiting for an opportunity to resurface. Told, in most cases, through the eyes of teenage girls or young women, these stories exhibit a unique prose style that perfectly captures the conversational rhythms, and preoccupations, of their generation. Unge's soft, winding syntax ushers the reader across the surface of each encounter at an unalterable pace like the ever-betraying passage of time whilst deftly hinting at the violence beneath.