…before the foxes came I’m told wild areas still grew – before the foxes came and towns gobbled up the ground. Towns gobbled up the ground, bit by bit, stone by stone, building after building, till the wilderness was eaten – chewed, swallowed. Gone.
George took the Patrol to pick his son Mark up from the international airport. Ordinarily he was very careful about its mileage and the Patrol burned gas a heck of a lot faster than the wife’s hatchback. But he was unsure how much luggage Mark was bringing back with him. George only got a call three days ago from Mark telling him he was coming home.
He met another Lizzy in Manchester. He named her Anne. He first saw her between the Old House at Home and Lotus Chinese Takeaway. She walked past him on Burton Road outside the row of houses where he lived. She was skinny but naturally so.
