DISCREET AND CONFIDENTIAL ENCOUNTERS
I was standing in my kitchen in Newcastle, staring at a pan of boiling potatoes, when the news broke about…
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The Crowd Below The workshop in the North Laine smells of shellac and the peculiar peace that only inanimate things…
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Let me tell you about a Tuesday in October. A specific Tuesday, the one after the news broke about the…
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There is a word for the space between the life you live and the life you watch yourself live. I…
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She is an unfaithful wife on the Gold Coast, and no one knows. Not her husband, who still leaves the…
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H1: The City Remembers What You Forget There’s a particular quality to the light in Birmingham in late autumn. It…
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Some places on a map are not meant to be visited. They exist only as blank spaces, cartographic conveniences, places…
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The Surface Layer: A Life on Devonshire Green The first thing you notice about Helena is that she never fidgets.…
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I began noticing the crack in the plaster above our bed about eighteen months ago. Not the marriage’s crack, that…
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Some decisions arrive not as thunder, but as a shift in the barometric pressure of a Tuesday afternoon. I was…
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