Featured Excerpt
From "Victor & Cleo" (p. 20)
by Anna Maconochie
After a decade or so of living in New York City, my friend Cleo was back in London and at a loose end romantically and otherwise, so I decided to fix her up with another friend, Victor, who was also single at that time.
Cleo and I weren’t particularly close friends. We were more like “meaningful acquaintances.” She was one of those distinct figures on my landscape who was always there even when she wasn’t. Years ago, I had been fascinated with how she had sailed through early adulthood. Her mother being American, Cleo would flit between London and New York with ease in pursuit of work or love—and escape either when necessary—until she found herself permanently in New York where she set up a chaotic, ultra-slick “creative agency” with a business partner. My understanding is they scored some big corporate clients—I don’t really know what they did and Cleo wasn’t given to straightforward explanations—but also found time to make kooky one-off products such as jewelry made from found objects and limited-edition chapbooks of her musings and drawings, that sort of thing. Easy to sell, especially if you’re part of a social scene who like that shit. Her covetable address book certainly worked for boyfriends too. They never stuck, but like the design gigs or art happenings, they kept coming.
About Concho River Review
Begun by novelist and short-story writer Dr. Terry Dalrymple in 1987, Concho River Review is a biannual literary journal published by the Department of English and Modern Languages at Angelo State University. Since its inception, CRR has prided itself on publishing some of the finest short fiction, nonfiction, and poetry from both emerging and established authors. Although originally designed as a forum for Texas writers, over the years its reach and interests have extended well beyond Texas and the Southwest.
