In the 1950s and 1960s, the ‘American parcel’ was a feature of Irish life. Irish people who emigrated to the USA and elsewhere would help out the family members left behind by sending home parcels of cast-off clothing and other goods like soaps and magazines.

These gifts were eagerly awaited, and helped clothe growing children in an era of extreme shortages where there was little money available. The term ‘American parcel’ was used to describe any such package that came back from abroad, from the UK and other places as well as the USA. In our house, our ‘American parcels’ came from Singapore, from a much-loved aunt whose husband was stationed with the British Army in what was then Malaya.

I thought of the term again when I was putting together this small collection of short stories for this chapbook. I wanted a common thread, difficult to find sometimes without shoehorning the odd story into a group where it doesn’t quite fit. These four stories seemed the best grouping, set as they are in the USA, a place I visit frequently and know well. So, ‘American Parcel’ it is, four seemingly unrelated stories but with a common theme of location, and with all four featuring solitary men and their views of the world.