Essex, 1647 In the shadows of dusk, Many-Shapes comes, through the woods and over the meadow, fleet to my devilish summoning. First, there’s a sound between the gnarled oaks, a pop of inrushing air, followed by the faint tang of sulphur. I sit in my frock with all the Patience for which I’ve been named, […]

There have been three particularly severe summers in Bowers during my lifetime, the entirety of which I have lived in this small town, and while I shall write to some extent of all three, it is the first that concerns these papers most. I was a child at the time, of that age where I […]

A spinning top, a blur at first, then settling into a rapid, humming focus. Mom spoke a language that we gathered and pieced together, tested and retested until we got the desired results. Images lacked context, seemed to drift from us the longer we stared. There was an embedded familiarity within the walls of the […]

It’s Monday morning when Magda Doubinsky discovers all her chickens are dead. Slaughtered Every egg crushed too. A poultry genocide. Even from here I can see the bright red flecks on the snow. Not just near the ramshackle coop, but scattered the length and breadth of the front yard. Feathers too, although only the dark-coloured […]