Sam Redlark

image generated by Craiyon “Go to the walk-in closet in Pat's bedroom,” instructed nurse Yettin. “On one of the box shelves, on the left, you will find the hard case that contains her mineral collection. Bring it back here.” I was almost out of the room when I heard the motors in Pat Orris-Bird's all-terrain wheelchair whir into life. I glanced backwards. The chair was  lumbering hesitantly across the unruly brown shagpile towards me. Pat was strapped securely into the seat. Her lightly-bobbing head was slumped against one of the padded side rests. Her vacant eyes were emptier than the painted-on gaze of a shop-floor mannequin. Her dry mouth hung open, slightly more so on one side. Earlier in the day, a visiting beautician, named Ivy, had carefully painted the lips pink. Her left hand was draped over a small joystick at the end of the armrest. Her fingers twitched with currents of muscle memory as if they were in the process of being possessed. Alerted by the sound of the chair...

Below is a response to a question that appeared on the Notes & Queries page of The Guardian website on 12th June 2022. The comment has since been deleted from the website. This blog is obviously not affiliated with The Guardian. Its reference to a question that appeared in Notes & Queries is presented under the terms of fair use. ~ At what age do we become capable of love? image generated by Craiyon “Our next door neighbour is the London Underground,” said Ann Cromack, as she led me, at a brisk pace, through the labyrinthine sub-basement of the British Museum. “We share a common wall with the Central Line,” she clarified, inserting a key into the lock of Room 45, which is also known as 'The Temple of Aphrodite'. The name conjures images of Doric columns, bleached by the glare of the Mediterranean sun; a far cry from the disquieting reality of wall-to-wall cabinets, filled from top to bottom with disembodied arms - rendered mostly in marble, many missing fingers - all la...