Nov 14, 2008 | Fiction |
“Day after day you watch the sun rise in the east, pass across the sky, then sink in the west, and something breaks inside you and dies. You throw your plough aside and, your head completely empty of thought, you begin walking toward the west. Heading toward a...
Nov 10, 2008 | Fiction |
He opened the book at random, or so he believed, but a book is like a sandy path that keeps the indent of footsteps. He had read from this one to Sam several times during the last two years, but the footsteps of his own childhood had dug deeper and the book opened on...
Oct 28, 2008 | Fiction |
It surprised him, as though, in penetrating a familiar cave, on some holiday at the sea, he had observed on a familiar rock the primeval painting of a human face which he had always mistaken before for a chance pattern of fungi.
Oct 19, 2008 | Fiction |
And the words enveloped him like an unrecognisable fart, saying: yes, oh yes, this is you, this is you.
Oct 12, 2008 | Fiction |
To Xan’s dark-adapting eye the faceless waiter now looked implausibly young: he seemed about to recommend a glass of milk. ‘I’ll have what you have,’ she said. All the more reason, then, to order an ocean of blue ruin.
Sep 19, 2008 | Fiction |
Post addressed to Jonathan Fitch came through my letter-box, and that was who I was. I had a National Insurance number and an account at Lloyds; I had a shoe size and a blood type and a bunch of keys. I was twenty-eight years old and not too bad looking; in the past,...
