The Sense of An Ending
That afternoon, he handed out a poem with no title, date or author’s name, gave us ten minutes to study it, then asked for our responses. ‘Shall we start with you, Finn? Put simply, what would you say this poem is about?’ Adrian looked up from his desk. ‘Eros and...
Creation Lake
As little Franck talks about why he thinks adults are afraid of children’s sexuality, someone in the background rides by on a loud motorcycle. Franck turns his head to look. He’s nine, but his body language is that of a teenager: he wants to know what’s going on...
The Sea
As I was heaving myself over in a tangle of sheets—I have never been able to cope with bedclothes—I caught a whiff of my own warm cheesy smell. Before Anna’s illness I had held my physical self in no more than fond disgust, as most people do—hold theirselves, I mean,...