Then She Was Gone

by Lisa Jewell

That was how she’d once viewed her perfect life: as a series of bad smells and unfulfilled duties, petty worries and late bills.

May was like the Friday night of summer: all the good times lying ahead of you, bright and shiny and waiting to be lived.

It’s all propaganda, however much it’s dressed up as liberal right thinking. We’re a nation of sheep.’ Laurel feels suddenly very drunk and has to resist the temptation to say baaaaa.

‘Stories’, she says, ‘are the only thing in this world that are real. Everything else is just a dream.’