by Centaur Lit | Apr 3, 2023 | Centaur, Spring 2023
Days on the beach under a tin sky, sand castles on the tidal flats. Your mum doesn’t take any phone calls, your mum grabs your hand, keeps pulling you. It’s a weird holiday, the caravan, the beach road, the flats. Cockles popping up from the ground, tickling...