Emily Taylor

Edward stood by the window of his flat in Manchester, watching schoolchildren hurry down the frosty morning street.

**Past Its Best** This morning in a quiet town on the edge of the Lake District dawned cold and grey.

**The Basement Summer** At first, there was a crash. The kind that rings in your ears, as though a lorry

The Basement Summer It started with a crash. The kind that makes your ears ring, as if a lorry had ploughed

**November 15th** William stood by the window of his flat in Manchester, watching schoolchildren hurry

Last summer, this little corner shop in the park near Camden was buzzing—kids licking ice creams, laughing

**The Last Minute** Edward stood by the window of his flat in Sheffield, watching schoolchildren hurry

**Sunday, February 18th** This past summer, the little bench in the square near Camden was always noisy—schoolkids

When Joy Came Home It was late evening, that gloomy March dusk, and Michael was walking home from work

It was summer when this bench in the square near Camden still hummed with life—schoolkids licking ice