There’s something wrong with my sister, Sky.

Was his voice strange because of the telephone, or because of something else?

The real grief is not having anyone to grieve with.

A fortnight before I had met my doggy daddy I had lost my mother.

I was uncomfortable, and I could just tell that something was wrong.

You come to believe that the beast was meant to be there.

He is alone, moving like a soft fog

as if toys are born after nine months of hope

Stay for lunch.

I was also a giant purple squirrel.

And struggle she did.