“There was the saw-toothed ‘kronk’ of the dawn raven, throaty enough to splinter dreams, send them skittering like silverfish. Chrissy-boy stirred, but his eyes stayed shut. Parched, he was. And the heat inside the shed on these hot mornings, it did something to the air. Wrung it out. Turned his mouth rank, tongue dry as a sunbaked frog. He groaned. The fall away of dreams and the return of this, his real world, often brought about a vague radge within him: a stony weight in the stomach, and briefly he lay between both states colourless, empty, unwritten space before his first clear thought. ‘Sadie’. Always the same thought.”
Extract from ‘Offcumden– included in the showcase