It’s a short story set between Ian Tregillis
‘s second and third books in his alternate-history-cosmic horror trilogy The Milkweed Triptych. I’m pleased to see it: I wasn’t expecting any more stories in this particular universe, and why I certainly understand that impulse to leave well enough alone* it was still a nice series. Glad to see that there’s just a little bit more of it.
Even if Tregellis doesn’t quite get the American domestic situation circa 1940 quite right. Or right at all, really.
Moe Lane
*When the entire trilogy involves a situation that makes our World War II look like an utopia, there’s a certain tendency to not want to push one’s luck.
