The Faber Book of Contemporary Stories About Childhood

And so they drove on. The night before, a whole day could have shape and design. But when it was upon you, it could vanish tragically to air.

But she had no memory of how to be brave. Here, it seemed, she had no memories at all. Nothing triggered them. And once in a while, when shegave voice to the fleeting edge of one, it seemed like something she was making up.

As a vacuum cleaner can start to pull up the actual thread of a carpet, her brains had been sucked dry by too much yoga.