It’s three hours since we parted.Sitting by an open window,too lazy to do any work,I listen to all the usual morning noises(the drone of a lawn mowerin some far, leafed suburb,a fond young couple downstairsfolding sheets, tabulating furniture,an old termagant in the flat opposite, snuffling round her son’s bedroomin search of – truffles? – confessions? –matricide […]

Looking up, the players have gone. Punctual as death, dogs sniff their way otherwhere.