Alice’s side room was half hallway, half lounge, with no windows to the world. Everything came from Auction houses. Vintage Sewing machines and Nic Nacs A regular Haberdashery. Ancient Black and white photographs in dusty frames, between Grandfather and cuckoo clocks, not half as cuckoo as Alice herself. “That’s your great Uncle Shultz next to the Plough, our neighbours from Durry Hill playing croquet. Dirty hand Jake, your fathers, sisters 2nd cousin removed next-door neighbour What a rascal he was.” “That’s a garden party with the Jones family. We ate cucumber sandwiches, guava jelly on scones, sipped pure Ceylon from fine china. Here’s a distant Relation, what’s his face, memory deludes me? He played Cello with the Wanganui Symphonic.” In the town hall, Before it burnt down. Even the tar on streets was burning. Only it wasn’t. None of it was true. The room full of forgotten photographs came from...
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