At the Margin

It was a cool morning, and patches of mist still clung to the ground and drifted beneath the trees, so that solid shapes seemed to be insubstantial and dream-like. A young boy walked slowly at the edge of the wood, as he often did. It was a favourite place. Something just inside his vision made…

Timothy

I’ll tell you how it started. John downstairs said he’d help Beryl with our bit of trouble. She was in the family way again, see, and we couldn't afford another one, not on my pay. He knew how to get rid of it. He was good at stuff like that. It all went wrong. I…