Just a short extract from a story about a bunch of astronomers and artists who travelled out for Turkey to watch the total solar eclipse:
<blockquote>Marcia and Jem shared our house, he’s a musician and sound artist, confident and quiet and despite significant fame as a member of the Pogues, quite happy to do the washing up. On our last day together we caught him filming the squeaky gate outside our house, swinging it back and forth, fast and slow, surprising its rusty hinges into a sonata. Marcia was my cigarette partner, neat and compact with flashing green eyes and tousled black hair. She was uninhibited and eccentric sliding her blanket around the balcony as we smoked like a small tangerine snail trailing its tail. With the husky voice of a thousand whisky nights she could turn any man’s head and was the Grand Dame of the house rising late and going to bed later... </blockquote>
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