‘There were ten tongues within one head,’ recited Doreen, in a voice slightly higher and more formal than the one in which she had previously spoken. ‘And one went out to fetch some bread, to feed the living and the dead. That was a riddle written about this corner, and that tree.’ ‘What does it mean?’ ‘A wren made a nest inside the skull of a gibbeted corpse, flying in and out of the jaw to feed its young. In the midst of death, as it were, life just keeps on happening.’
