The Clock Tower

Our new home is known as the Clock Tower.

The village layout is a masterpiece of practical design, every house having a direct view of the clock face. We arrive one autumn evening, new keys and a fresh start, unpacking some essentials before sleeping on temporary beds.
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Her Father’s Garden

She will set fire to the garden, to bring her father back.

It is day sixteen of the heatwave. The lawn is a tinderbox ready to spark. Shrivelled flowerbeds are perfect kindling.
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A Perfect Shot

Through the lens she finds her target.

Visibility is poor, the last of the light fading into night. A little adjusting of the focus brings her target into view. It’s taken some time, but she may be able to get a perfect shot.
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Monsters in the Closet

We spend our days playing in the closet.

In our imagination it is a spaceship, a doorway to other worlds, a portal that can travel through time. In the darkness we act out our fantasies, constructing the characters of our narrative. We play with the treasures that surround us – costumes in boxes, paperwork on shelves, trinkets that remind us of our parents.

We play all day in the closet, waiting for the door to be unlocked once more.
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