The Turn and the River
Contradictions
A Lot to Take In
The Miniature Bottle
The Gathering
A Bag of Sand
Salacia
The Beach of Truth
The Signal Can Happen Now
Alive
The Fate We Make
This Is Life
Vive Por Mí
Ashes
I Happen
Bluebird
Blaze
Acknowledgements
About the Author
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To the island and people of Ibiza
Reality is not always probable, or likely.
Jorge Luis Borges
When the angels from above,
Fall down and spread their wings like doves;
As we walk, hand in hand,
Sisters, brothers, we’ll make it to the promised land.
Joe Smooth, ‘Promised Land’
Dear Mrs Winters,
I hope you don’t mind the email.
You may remember me. You taught me mathematics at Hollybrook. I am now 22 years old and in my final year at university. I am studying mathematics, you will be pleased to hear!
I bumped into Mr Gupta in town in the Easter break and I asked after you and he told me all your news. I’m sorry to hear about the loss of your husband. Mr Gupta said you have moved to Spain. I had a grandmother who moved back to Grenada, which she hadn’t visited since she was seven, and she found happiness there. I hope you are happy with your move abroad.
I too have experienced grief recently. My mum died two years ago and after that I fell into despair. I don’t get on with my father and have found it hard to focus on university work. My sis (you may remember Esther) needs even more support now. I let my girlfriend down and she broke up with me. There have been other things too. At times I have found it very hard to carry on. It feels my life is already written at this young age and everything is known. I sometimes can’t breathe with all the pressure.
I am in a pattern, like a number pattern, a Fibonacci sequence – 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21 etc. – and like that sequence things get less surprising the further I go on. But instead of realising the next number is found by adding the two before it, you realise that everything ahead of you has already been decided. And as I get older, as I pass more numbers, the pattern becomes more predictable. And nothing can break that pattern. I used to believe in God but now I don’t believe in anything. I was in love, but I messed that up. I hate myself sometimes. I mess everything up. I feel guilty all the time. I am drinking too much, and it screws up my studies and I feel guilty for that too because Mum wanted me to try hard.
I look at what is happening in the world and I see that our whole species is on a path to destruction. Like it is programmed, another pattern. And I just get fed up with being a human, being this small tiny thing that can’t do anything about the world. Everything feels impossible.
I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I just wanted to tell someone. And you were always kind to me. I am in the dark and I need a light. Sorry. That sounds melodramatic. I just need to be a good role model for my sister.
Please don’t feel obliged to answer this. But anything you can say will be greatly valued. Sorry for the long email.
Thank you,
Maurice (Augustine)
Dear Maurice,
