4th November 2021
"His mother had a choice between keeping the monkey or having the baby. She told the story often, in company, with a roll of her eyes and a helpless grin, as if this was the sore spot, the branching crossroads where her life had gone wrong. "
6th October 2021
'You talk and talk until you run out of breath and still when you get home there are things you wish you had said. Just once I would like to wake before myself and see what I am with my eyes closed.'
1st September 2021
‘Your mother’s on the radio,’ she said, ‘being racist.’ This had surprised me; the radio bit. My mother had an aversion to talk radio.
12th August 2021
"They wore travel outfits, comfy and subtle. Tiny shorts and big hoodies in creamy colours. Shorts said: actual holiday. Hoodies said: chill, not like the other young ones going away, flashing bikinis at baggage claim."
7th July 2021
'Sometimes I long for home, but not home as it is now, home back then. Back when it was nice. When the sun was always out, and we could play all day out of doors. Before I had to be a woman.'
3rd March 2021
'Gloria! he said, not loud enough. Gloria! he shouted again. It sounded ridiculous, like some kind of dreadful Van Morrison tribute act. Gloria!'
3rd February 2021
"What do you think of, I said to my husband that evening, when you think of Monica Lewinsky?"
28th January 2021
A troubled investigator exposes deeds too wicked to speak of in Mike McCormack's story for cold nights and guilty consciences.