Mesmerised, her eyes locked onto the images on the screen. An earthquake in the ocean, its magnitude measuring in at ‘twenty-three thousand Hiroshima sized bombs’ causing a tidal wave forty foot high, its watery fingers grasping at the shore, breaking with the puissance of a racehorse, moving swiftly round the corner, taking the final hedge
Snow at the road edges was thick where Brendan rounded the final blind corner in his dad’s 68-reg Audi. When the farm came into view, it appeared to him as a romantic vision of a bygone England – the long tree-lined driveway and farmhouse and barns under white blankets could’ve been on a Christmas card.
# Tuesday When she gets home, she sits in the stillness of her apartment for a minute. She studies the piano from the corner of her eyes. Grandiose, silent, waiting. All is well. She opens her trolley and sets it in the corner of the living room, with no intention to put it away just