The Door, written by Magda Szabó, is a post-war story about a woman’s relationship with her housekeeper, of whom the narrator says, “One can tell instinctively what sort of flower a person would be if born a plant, and her genus certainly wasn’t the rose, with its shameless carmine unfolding – the rose is no … Continue reading Hello Petal
Outside Scotmid a young girl with matted hair sits on a tartan blanket. ‘Any spare change, please.’ A man carries a baby, pressed like a pillow into his belly. He stops at Bayne’s window to point out the green spider decorations and the buns shaped as pumpkins, iced with orange fondant. The baby is too … Continue reading The Street Where I Live
I am in the Post Office sending parcels, there are two hatches but she says – go to go his, I am sorting something, and as he serves me she speaks sharply to him, saying that he has labelled these boxes incorrectly and has placed a bag where she is bound to trip over it, … Continue reading While There Is Still Time
I’m still in Ireland, spending time between two houses that are located close together, one perpendicular to the other, each with a flow of people coming and going as regular as the rise and fall of the tide. Coriander: that was the first thing the child called for at tea-time, which he got. Five minutes … Continue reading Neighbour
I love the part of being home that allows me to meet up with old friends, small reunions that taste so much sweeter after these long months of social confinement. The days of the open door and of ‘come on in’ have not quite returned, but the outdoor replacements – beaches and backyards, park benches … Continue reading Old Friends
I write this propped up in a strange bed. Four days strange, but welcoming, comfortable, quiet, and enveloping with its yellow sunflower bedcover. It’s my holiday haven. I look around and try to notice everything about being here, as it will soon be over, these moments gone, unlikely to be repeated. I still myself to … Continue reading This Moment
Yes, it’s amazing, a lifesaver, a blessing, and where would we all be without it? But, all that aside – and just between me and you – isn’t it beginning to drive you mad? I use it once a day (at least), and it does give me a break from my own company, but some … Continue reading My Whole Wide World Went Zoom
The grey heron is back. I have been watching and waiting for him, and finally I’ve been rewarded. Last year he was a fixture on Dunsapie Loch, on the east side of Arthur’s Seat. There he would stalk, or wade, or stand frozen in position like some sort of prehistoric decoy. This year he favours … Continue reading Passing Through
My sister and I have the same speaking voice. Believe me. I can only hear it when I listen to a recording of myself, and when I do, it is her voice I hear (and vice versa, she says). She once had a phone conversation with my husband, and they were three or four minutes … Continue reading Morph
Austerity: it was the word of the last decade, wasn’t it? Carried over from the decade before, from the infamous crash of 2007 when we (or someone on our behalf) over-stretched and over-spent until under we went. And after that, I only ever thought of the word ‘austerity’ in terms of fiscal policy; I associated … Continue reading An Austerity of Closeness
