A Double Coffin. Gwendoline Butler

is the old bike you say he goes about on propped up against the wall.’ He looked at the TV viewer fixed on his porch as a security aid. Yes, there was Martin; no one was really invisible.

      He went down the stairs.

      ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ said Martin, as he came into the kitchen. ‘I came to apologize for my behaviour today.’ The bruise under his left eye was a dark evil streak, while on the other side of his face a long bruise stretched from cheekbone to jaw. He looked pale and thin.