Mechanisms of Despair

by Gary Buller

Icy fingers of rain tapped eagerly on the window. In the world outside, ancient trees stood like mossy corpses that had risen from their graves- dying leaves hung like papery skin from their outstretched arms. The vastness of the wide country landscape heightened Dan's sense of entrapment.

It had even started to snow. I know, right? A Mancunian Christmas that looked like it would be white instead of grey and drizzly.

RIGHT!