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The streets were never going to be the same again. They used to be safe and now they weren’t, and all of it because of one person, one morning, one moment. All of it because of me.
No one saw me but I was still there. I was basically God.
A baby poked out from a white blanket, screwed up and cross-looking. It was quite a disappointment.
Mam always liked God, even when she didn’t like me.
When she had moved in, my body had been like an alley house—dank and grimy and rotten at the edges—but she had still wanted to live there.
Donna was busy looking like a lamp and a potato at the same time.
