(Elisabeth Mahoney’s article appeared in the Guardian, 8/28.)
An elderly couple sit, static and wan, under a single dim bulb and a tangle of mismatched chairs suspended at ceiling height. They have been married, they say, for 75 years and gather together each night in their isolated house on a lonely island to pass the time by telling stories. The Old Woman pleads for these ("Every night, I come to it fresh"), while the Old Man rails against their well-worn themes. "I'm sick to death of Tudor history," he complains.
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