Three Things About Elsie

by Joanna Cannon

‘It feels like yesterday,’ I said. ‘Sometimes, I think there must be a shortcut between the past and the present, but no one bothers to tell you about it until you get old.’

It smelled of creosote, the potting shed. Creosote and soil. We were surprised it was unlocked, but there are times Cherry Tree seems stuck somewhere in the 1950s, when the whole world was unlocked but no one had yet thought to steal from it.

It’s the greatest advantage of reminiscing. The past can be exactly how you wanted it to be the first time around.

Sometimes, you go through an experience in life that slices into the very bones of who you are, and two different versions of yourself will always sit either side of it, like bookends.

It was a fisherman’s cottage and the room was very small. Perhaps because people had smaller lives in those days, and they filled their space up with thoughts and conversation, rather than with sideboards and coffee tables.

‘No matter how long or how short a time you are here, the world is ever so slightly different because you existed.