Deborah Kay Davies

“I had a fierce headache and (my parents’) soft conversation was like a light rain falling on the hot roof of my head.”

“I tried to whip some feelings up but the inside of my chest was as hollow as an empty rubbish bin; totally, absolutely dried up, with my poor, tiny heart lying at the bottom like a crushed coke can.”

“…round the back of my little heart I could hear a lonely breeze whistling away everything I cared about.”