Her hair is matted; her lips are cracked. The eczema she had as a child is back with a vengeance and is raging. Her fingers are dirty, but she has to scratch the backs of her hands, they itch so. The skin is red raw and bleeds at the touch. She lies on her back on the mattress. There is a small lamp beside her and a pile of books. The One with Eyebrows brought them the other day, after there were no more sounds of people walking about above, after he pulled the tape from her mouth, taking skin and hair with it. He said, ‘Here are some books, and a torch to read by.’ She was turned away from him then, staring at the bricks in the wall. But after he left and the door was locked shut she looked to see what was there. Three books. Book club editions, with mock leather and gilt covers. Romance seemed to be the theme, if the titles were anything to go by. She turned the torch light on and off. On and off. Spotlighting the rough wood ceiling. Shining the light into her own face. The bulb was sealed into the head of the lamp, which was made of hard transparent plastic.
What do You think about The Swan Song Of Doctor Malloy?
