The feeling – which I think is peculiarly 25 – of standing on a precipice. The feeling that if you, for a second, stop grasping for a foothold, the ground will fall away from beneath your feet and you will be left adrift in a terrible, lonely emptiness.

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Dog: We had bought The Art of Raising a Puppy by the Monks of Skeate, and it sat like an ironic reminder on the lower shelf of the coffee table, its cover half chewed off with a puppy’s zeal.
Sock: Her husband had left for the weekend.† In the bedroom he left behind a tossed off [...]

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plucking a thought – just for fun
When Jeb arrived at the house it was late, and although he was loathe to admit this to himself, the chill and dark that permeated the empty rooms unnerved him.† Walking up he’d noticed that someone had spelled out the street name on the door with brass lettering, lest [...]

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third person, close, quirky tone, mood – loss

As she sat there and looked out over her garden she had to admit to herself that she had a serious weed problem.† She’d tried everything – bought a weed-waker, stocked bottles of weed-be-gone in her makeshift shed, had even looked at ordering weed-kiling breeds of locusts online, [...]

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