The Unlikely Escape of Uriah Heep

by H.G. Parry

History is every bit as much of a story as fiction. There’s no reason a reader can’t construct their own Duke of Wellington just as clearly as they might construct their own personal Uriah Heep.

Our relationship—whatever it was that was unfurling between us—wasn’t serious. It was important, momentous, wondrous. “Serious” sounded like something terminal. It was a word for ending, not beginning.

“Five is quite clear at the moment. I can see him at a coffee shop, with an attractive young lady who has noted his resemblance to Mr. Colin Firth. He will doubtless be rude to her, and thus obtain her phone number.

Austens and Brontës are fundamentally opposed.”