’Excuse me’, said Hector, slipping his mop under Nell’s legs to get beneath her desk. She pushed her chair back to make things easier. He’d been working as the night janitor since she joined the Institute, six months previously. They’d never talked much. Maintenance staff were instructed not to bother the faculty. It was half … Continue reading The Old Switcheroo

The only waves are those I make myself. When I halt, the water stills. Ergo, this is not a sea but a shallow lake. At its deepest, the water goes up to my neck. At its shallowest, my thighs. Under foot it is stony in parts, but largely mud. There is no wind. It is … Continue reading The Wader