They looked at each other from across the lift.

Hannah’s right breast was beginning to melt. She was regretting the cheap surgeon.

“Hot, today, isn’t it.”

Rhietta nodded. As she did so, her hair caught on the back wall of the lift. There was a slight sizzle, to add to the smell of burning.


She stepped away from the back wall, clothes restricting her movement because of the perspiration. The floor of the lift was also restrictive. It was Jennings, from accounts. He appeared to have reached a point of negative equity.

“Been on holiday this year?”

“Yeah. Barbados.”

“Ooh. Nice.”

The lift reached the ground floor, and the doors opened slowly.

They walked out of the building.


and did no-one think
that maybe
what was said
come Saturday
had not been driven
by events
from Friday night


it had driven them
by how he’d felt
and how he couldn’t feel
anything else