Connections
April 2024 | Fiction, Short Stories
Relationships have the power to profoundly impact our lives in ways we never could have anticipated—and take us to places we least expect. This collection of short stories explores the euphoria of newfound love, the agony of loss, and the darkness some may be capable of when they’re pushed to the brink.
About John Connolly
📍 Ontario, Canada
John Connolly is an observer of the world. Inspired by a professor of sociology in his
university days, he has since taken every opportunity in his travels across Canada and
the globe to enrich his understanding of the human condition. His experiences led him
to write his first book of short stories, Connections.
John is also the editor of the short story anthology Our Lives: Girls’ and Women’s Stories
Across Two Millennia, published in 2014. In his downtime, he enjoys travelling, reading,
and exercising. He lives in Ottawa, Ontario with his wife.
Connections Preview
The Summer of 68
The crash of containers onto the tiled floor made more
noise than he thought possible, but it was the flow
of milk that created the real problem. Fortunately,
Michael was at the cash, well out of the way of the growing
white stream.
The woman in front of him had several items in
her basket, but it was her stature that reminded him of
someone whom he could not recall.
As she turned, he froze, and the feeling only intensified
when she looked at him. “Michael, is that you?’’ Her
makeup-free face scrutinized his astonished reaction.
“Sonia, Sonia,’’ dribbled from his mouth as he had
difficulty speaking. The two were locked in a stare, like
statues facing one another in the dark.
The cashier quipped, “you two look like old friends at
a high school reunion who can’t believe how much the
other has changed.’’
While Michael paid for his sugar hit, Sonia was waiting
by the exit.
“What are you doing here?” She asked more perplexed
than anything else.
“I’m just passing through on my way to Toronto to
visit my daughter Alexandra and decided to meander by
taking a different route for a change. You must live around
here; the cashier seems to know you well.’’
“Yes, I moved here many years ago.’’
For the next few minutes they engaged in small talk,
never scratching beneath the surface.
Sonia asked if he had any other children and he replied
no, only a grandson who was almost three.
“How nice,’’ she said, her smile growing larger, reflecting
a warmth that flowed naturally from within.
He wondered if she was still involved with the local
boy whom he believed was the source of his loss.
“I imagine that you probably need to be on your way
as the traffic around Toronto is usually pretty heavy on a
Friday afternoon.’’
“Yes, I see my daughter fairly often, so I know exactly
what you mean.’’
Just before leaving, he asked if he might call her the
next time he was going to Toronto so they could have a
coffee and catch up. Sonia hesitated, as that prospect
veered into memories, some of which were very painful,
but nodded and gave him her phone number.