The Talking Horse And The Sad Girl And The Village Under The Sea (2005) - Plot & Excerpts
The clock strikes twelve, and on the dirt roadwhere the shanties thin to marsh grass and burnt cars,the music stops and tonight’s crocodileof lost children melt into the dark.They are ours now. You cannot touch them. They will see you in bad dreams.The smoke of October bonfires, a singlegunshot hurling rooks into a white skyand you, at the French windows, oglingthe gardener’s boy while your niece makes a pig’s earof a Chopin Polonaise and the servantsbitch about you in the scullery. But you will see them from the evening train,raging in burned-out lots and under bridges.You will see them in the corridorsof hospitals. You will see them hoveron the dark that pools in hotel roomsand lying under blankets on the tarmac of the other carriageway, the broken glass like snow and the lights flashinglike a black Christmas. You will see themstanding at your shoulder in the mirror. They will not come back. The road is hardand no one wants to listen to the storiesthey will have to tell.
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