Brad Conard | The Sun Magazine
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Brad Conard

Brad Conard lives in New York City where he works for Anateus and The Ecco Press. His fiction has appeared in several literary magazines.

— From January 1983
Fiction

My Father’s Grandson

I called my father at his bank in Tulsa. He wasn’t there, as usual, so I left a message with his secretary, as usual. “Tell him, Helouise, that he has a new grandson.” I had to repeat the message twice, as Helouise was well aware that I was an only child and quite unmarried.

January 1983
Fiction

Precedent

In 1975 I came to love Faye Henry. She was thirty-five years older than I and necessary for my mother, who had no friends at Harvard until she and Faye Henry fell asleep together in the back of “Practicum in Ethnographic Futures Research,” knew they were destined to be friends, and have been ever since.

July 1982
Fiction

The Every-Other-Friday-Afternoon Bridge Luncheon

As far as I know, my grandmother’s only regret in life was that she died on a Thursday. “Damnation!” she cursed fate in front of her sister Gert, her four children, and her thirteen grandchildren.

February 1982
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