Liquid boundary between timeless sleep and sharp reality. She seeps sleeps slips in through the cracks. Couples seek out the dark, deserted corners of her memories where they kiss unseen.

Sky painted heavy with lead and gunmetal, solid cloud eddying the breeze which passes across them. Leaving her is strange and reluctant. As the distance grows the connection pulls at my bones, vertebrae popping out from under taut skin.


"Whichever is the hardest path to take, that is usually the right path."


Short breaths caught in her lungs as the bus pulled away from the station. She'd missed it. With a curse she dropped her heavy suitcase to the floor, and seemingly in slow motion watched the latch hit the kerb and catapult across the road. A hairdryer, underwear, lipstick, European currency spilled onto the hot tarmac of the forecourt. She sat on the case and let herself cry a little, tears mingling with sweat on her face.

Passers-by watched as she collected her belongings and hauled them to the plastic benches by the ticket booth. She took out a pack of cigarettes and lit up. As smoke congealed in the still air and dust she sighed, and it seemed to deflate her. Hair hung over her face, the glow of the cigarette end barely visible. Her high heels dangled from her feet showing the blisters underneath. She sat there for a time and then slowly, as if she had melted to the chair, she pulled herself upright.


Obfuscate: make communication intentionally vague, unclear, ambiguous.


In Geology episodic refers to events that occur or have occurred periodically. Length of the period may be even thousands or millions of years.


Less a guest overstaying its visit.
More of a poltergeist.


Of course, he was a wonderful man. Then, I suppose they all were. It was a very long time I ago that I last had a man about, you know. They never stuck around, or I never put up with them. Either way, either way the papers had their fun, didn't they? I was a serial man-breaker, leaving them all behind.

Why didn't you marry any of them?

Oh, I didn't really have time. Not then, anyway, not with matches and publicity and everything. And later I didn't have the time, I was doing all those ad campaigns, you know? The ones for watches, wearing things I'd never buy. I think I was expected to marry them, everybody asked. But they would be just as keen to see me divorce them, too. No, I wouldn't do all that. My bloody manager said weddings were good for publicity, get me doing interviews and Hello shoots, no thanks. I would have thought sportsmen had different rules.

Sportswomen, too?


But you did marry in the end, didn't you? More recently?

Oh, Lawrence. Yes, we met after I retired, after I moved here. He passed away a few years ago.

I'm sorry to hear that.

I quite like it now he's gone, actually. I'm used to being alone, see? I like it better that way. I don't find all ... [inaudible] ...


As she rounded the crest of the hill the first tentative fingers of dawn were tearing through the clouds. He was like orchestras, she decided, to her solo violin. He was like warm, fresh bread to her mouthful of sweetness.
There was a delicious pleasure in her spine, as the chill wind swept her coat aside and prickled her skin into goosebumps.
After her second helping, her mother leaned over and said "Stop". It was obviously meant with a love, and it was said with a smile.
Under the pretence of clearing pans she snuck a third plate of pasta in the kitchen.