Monday, 7 September 2009

Conservation Area Please Keep Out

There’s a space the size of a matchbox that nobody else knows about. It’s hidden underneath piles of old clothes and books. There are old cassette tapes scattered around, some of the ribbons unravelled and spilling out, words and music coming slowly undone. There’s a part of him in that space that doesn’t exist anymore. The part that was happy. The part that was loved by her.

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