Brutal

One of the good things about not going to work is being able to start the piles of unread books that seem to have entered my home over the last decade or more.

Literature, however, can be brutal. Take this poem by Rose Tremain in her short novel, “Letter to Sister Benedicta” :-

She’s gone to Milan

with her smart young man

leaving her furs

and all that was hers

including the very

pale man she called Gerry.