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.
In a remote woodland cottage, an eccentric explains to his granddaughter why he shoots cats whenever they make themselves too comfortable. The Manchester Review Unge can do a lot with a little. On Christmas Eve, a girl stalks an older man through wintery city streets, haunted by their shared past. 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. The Short Review It Was Just, Yesterday is both atmospheric and menacing. Abuse, betrayal and neglect lurk beneath a veneer of mutually maintained normality, waiting for an opportunity to resurface. 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. In a checkout queue, a woman suddenly shows charity to a penniless guy she apparently doesn't know.
On Christmas Eve, a girl stalks an older man through wintery city streets, haunted by their shared past.
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