Marjorie sees the young people in the town sometimes. They are maybe sixteen or so, young men mostly. Somehow they have become separated from their family though she can’t imagine how. She tries not to meet their gaze, not to look into their dark eyes. She is told to be afraid of them, told she
Once a week Kate sits in his small office, laying out stories spanning her thirty years. Loose pages of a book, confessional secrets for her pastoral counselor to untangle and make sense of, they tell of her father’s angry outbursts and stony silences, her mother’s icy glares and disapproving comments, her own struggle for self-esteem.
‘Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude.’ – Zig Ziglar ‘They put up a poster saying we earn more than you, we’re working for the clampdown.’ – The Clash I turn down the radio in my car – talk radio – some crappy awful phone-in show providing a platform for the permanently incensed,
