Martí CV’s Reviews > This Must Be the Place > Status Update

It won't surprise you to hear that it takes me a while to collect myself.

Marithe, he knows, will be mostly silent from the outside but inside —inside!— her world will be one of aural colour, music, beat, lyrics filling her skull.

Such things! Rosalind wants to hoard each and every one in her mind, placing them carefully on a shelf to be looked at, marvelled over in the days and weeks and months to come.

Kick a man while he's down, why don't you?

She presses the button that lights up the phone. There is, she is both annoyed and elated to see, a signal. A fainy one, but a signal all the same.

From the corners of the room, from all under the furniture, from the places where it has been waiting, the darkness swarms in.

What redemption there is in being loved: we are always our best selves when loved by another.

They're all dead, he wants to shout to this man, in the camel coat, with his slickly combed silver hair. They can't see if you've got your hat off or not and, frankly, even if they could, do you think they would care?

…possibly because Maeve cannot take this sound any more, not a minute more —she has come to the end of her tether, the end of her rope, the end of the road. There is no more —of anything.