“The sun was up - stuck like half a tinned apricot on a sky awash with all the colours of a fading bruise. Down below the living dead were forming their complaining queues at bus stops.” — Helen Hodgman Copy Share Image
“He saw with sudden awful clarity that if he turned tail now and if, by some appalling miracle, she should survive, he'd never hear… — Helen Hodgman Copy Share Image
“She wrote sniffing back the tears that flowed over the version of things that her unconscious insisted on sicking up.” — Helen Hodgman Copy Share Image
“The sun was up - stuck like half a tinned apricot on a sky awash with all the colours of a fading bruise. Down… — Helen Hodgman Copy Share Image
“Jack amused himself by visualising her head creaking open on hinges concealed by her tartan Alice band, and releasing all the furry folk with… — Helen Hodgman Copy Share Image
“Life's so simple, thought Jill, if only you can strike the right note. All it needed was a little give-and-take. She'd often said so.” — Helen Hodgman Copy Share Image
“Jack and Jill slept, wrapped in each other's arms, untroubled by any dream in their cocoon of freshly discovered wrinkly passion.” — Helen Hodgman Copy Share Image
She had six months at most left to live. She had cancer, she hissed. A filthy growth eating her insides away. There was an… — Helen Hodgman Copy Share Image
Off with the old and on with the new and never a second's thought between. — Helen Hodgman Copy Share Image
“He was dazed, the soft thoughts sinking slowly in. A son. Even a daughter. His child. Immortality. A chance to make good. Pass on… — Helen Hodgman Copy Share Image
“She usually worked at night, claiming that the racket he made about the house distracted her during the day; she needed silence, total silence,… — Helen Hodgman Copy Share Image
