Unclassified

In a job I had, this kid called me every shift for about 4 years, then disappeared off the radar.

Real life lacks the structure of fiction. It is full of loose ends, of random events with no further significance, of dramatic turns from which no moral can be drawn. Yet sometimes, we perceive patterns in the raw chaos of existence. We insist that, somehow, it must all make sense.

Her name was ‘Diane’. A name I have preserved in my fiction for over thirty-five years. Whenever I wish to depict a fantasy woman, who is also all-too-human, I picture her.

Gliding through the traffic , the silver shadow makes her way , the driver at the wheel is just passing the time of day . He’s not in any hurry ,...