In the next apartment the children are quieter, soon they’ll run a bath and one of them will lie in it, moving. She comes out of the bathroom, her hair standing, shaped to a point like an alien. Are you cold? No, I’m airing the towels. That’s a good idea, here, which of these switches switches the light on? Outside Chez Marianne on … Continue reading ‘Chez Marianne’ by Cliff Yates