No. 32, “ – only to sit – ”. A stretch of undergrowth just off the path, overwhelmed by fallen rhododendron flowers, petals creamy pale and speckled with reddish oranges and orangey reds, and nestled among them a plastic juice bottle, wide-mouthed, green-capped, the label of it peeled away, but the sort that usually holds fruit juice, orange, lemon-yellow, cranberry magenta, but the liquid in it, just a splash, made out through clinging condensation, is a slick of milky white, frothed at the edge with bubbles, shot through with a hint of gold.

The 32nd novelette in the epic, " – only to sit – ", now available in its entirety on the website:

thecityofroses.com/contents/#on...

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