Sipsworth

by Simon Van Booy

She isn’t taking any medicine, nor does she need any creams, powders, tonics, or lozenges. The only real proof of her advanced age are a chronic, persistent feeling of defeat, aching limbs, and the power of invisibility to anyone between the ages of ten and fifty.

When they pull up outside her house on Westminster Crescent, the snow is really coming down, thick and slow like clumps of fur ripped from winter’s back.