There are ghosts here.
She bit her lip as she read the word in the clouds.
There was a man dwelt by a churchyard.
It was such a gentle curve of glass. A rectangle of slow ellipse and rounding corners. And always dusty grey.
Timal could feel the water change beneath her feet, vibrating through the thin oiled wood of her boat. It slowed and slewed to the left, rising. She adjusted her grip on the forerope and set her feet in jamilusch. The sails caught again and the
Everything of my life with her piled in the corner. As if a room full of artefacts and belongings had tilted to one side and the contents had all assembled in one place where the angles of the room came together. It didn’t seem so
He tucked his chin down into his collar, nuzzling the scarf up around his neck, and walked briskly. The sunlight was in his eyes to the left; he closed his eyes just enough to reduce the glare, turned his head a little to the right,