She sorts out her lipstick with a glance in the hall mirror, her free hand simultaneously pointing out rogue books and magazines that suddenly, urgently need me to tidy them. She ducks into her bedroom, rummages noisily, makes a brief appearance in the hallway in what can only be described as a Poncho. 'No,' she says. 'No.' And she balls it up and flings it back through her bedroom door. I want to medicate her. One of those tranquilliser darts they use to bring down big cats would do.

- Joel

Author: Rebecca Sparrow