The Sound of My Voice

Tom and Elise: three small steps to yours and two of Mary’s.

Leave the railing and hold instead on to the sound of my voice.

Quietly enough to hear the sound of my voice once more.

Even in that short time she has fallen deeper into herself than you have ever gone, or ever imagined going.

well worth your weight in biscuits.

Forgiven, excused, held, and then listened to all over again.

almost laughing aloud.

Yes, maybe you do have a drink now and again, but no one could ever say it affected your work. No chance. You’re good. Bloody good. One of the youngest executives in the business. On the ball. Always.

The moments in your life you regard as the divisions on a compass rather than on a clock face: there are no dates and numbers, but directions,

alcohol is not the problem – it’s the solution: dissolving all the separate parts into one. A universal solvent. An ocean.