The Sea

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,...
Death and the Penguin

Death and the Penguin

The end of November saw the transition from deep autumn to deep winter. Children threw snowballs. An icy chill crept under coat collars. Cars drove slowly, as if frightened of each other, the roads being now much narrower. The cold diminished, shortened, shrivelled...
Rachael Dadd

Rachael Dadd

People (darn those ‘people’) bandy around so many descriptions of singers’ voices that they start to become mundane. The ‘awesome’ effect if you will, whereupon receiving a cup of tea, I now fight the urge to indicate I am struck with...