This is Mary. Mary has brown hair and brown eyes. She lives in a house with windows and doors. It has one bedroom and one bathroom. It has one lounge and one kitchen. In the kitchen there is some mould around the taps which Mary cannot get off, even when she tries really hard. Mary…

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I watch her. I watch her all the time. I watch her pour milk on her cereal. I watch her stumble out of bed. I see her wince as she crushes her feet into heels. I see her curse at her laptop when she’s working from home. I know she’s steered clear of wheat since…

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The nights are the worst. Lying here, shuttered into the automatic darkness, it is the only time I know I am lonely. Twisting about in a bed grown tacky, sheets peeling off me like second skins, the night-time hours are slow and gruelling, fat with fantasies and corners and fear. The door casts a long,…

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