“During her time at the wheel of the ambulance, Marjorie Claypole had seen many terrible ways the human body could be made strange. After one particularly heavy raid, she’d helped remove a dead man from the smoking ruins of his home, his arms all but gone and his body fused with the carpet. Heaving him up, the carpet had come away with the dead man too, peeling from the floorboards in one long strip. Like proud fishermen bearing away an enormous eel, Marjorie and the others had laid him outside on the pavement with the rest of his family.”
Nasturtiums - Read by Catherine Bradley