A brief, erotic novel. A woman who appears enveloped in conventional domesticity clings to memories of the dangerously bohemian life she shared with her former lover.
The writing is hallucinatory, musical and intimate. It pulls you through, like the wind that blows through Bird’s life, like time rushing past us, unable to be held. There’s a sense that Holland’s sentences are alive, and that life starts here — with the stories we tell ourselves.
