The Spare Room

by Laura Starkey

He was as tall and wiry as ever, though he had the greyish, dull complexion of someone whose acquaintance with vegetables was casual at best.

What if he’s one of those people who puts makeup on dead bodies so they still look sort of alive at their own funerals?’ ‘Well then, maybe he could give me some tips on correctly matching my foundation to my skin tone,’ Rosie said. ‘You know I’m crap with cosmetics.’

The man was like a human advent calendar – it seemed that behind every door, there was a pleasant surprise patiently awaiting discovery.