What no one ever tells you is that you’ll always be alone, trapped inside yourself forever. It’s like a house you were born in, and some of the furniture belonged to your mum and dad but you can chuck that out if you want to, or if you can. But you’ve got to bloody well live in this house, that’s the thing. Even if it’s a hole and you prefer the look of other people’s. Nobody tells you how it’s going to be, living inside yourself. How grey things’ll look from the window, if that’s the mood you’re in. But when you close the curtains it’s worse.
War Crimes for the Home (2002)
Use the link below to visit the website of award-winning British novelist LIZ JENSEN:
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