“Too much death. I felt as if I had absolutely no control over my movements, feelings and decisions. I was crouched over the body, locked there, with everything surging and washing around inside me. She was obviously young, slender and scarcely formed, like the village children I’d seen in Malaya, caught in the crossfire. The combination of memory and harsh, present reality was too much. I reeled, reached for the wall to support myself. Don’t touch that! You’ll leave sweaty prints as if you’d si...gned your name and added your date of birth and the colour of your eyes. I regained my balance and stayed there, poised over the lifeless body like a vulture deciding where to peck. A cramp was building slowly in my left leg. I let it build, enjoyed the mounting pain. The soft buzz of the telephone probably stopped me from shouting and lunging for the door handle. The insistent noise came from inside the flat, past the awkwardly sprawled body. I uncurled and gasped as the cramp gripped and relented.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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