‘I’m afraid I have to duck that by asking what your definition of a writer is?’ ‘Okay have you sold a book?’ She was grinning as she asked. ... smiled sadly at her when I asked, ‘Sold to who? I have sold copies on Ebay, but none to a mainstream publisher.’ ‘Selling anything at all counts with me. I always wanted to write.’ I gave her a close look while she spoke. She was probably twenty years younger than my fifty eight. She was probably just as many pounds underweight. She was thin as death but. The second was turned into arotting, green zombie, with a couple of limbs blacked out. The third hadits hands in front of its stomach, and Richard had made it look like itwas trying to hold its intestines in. Number four had a brown noosearound its neck, hanging from an overhead rafter, and number five had alot of red lines on its body as if someone had slashed it up with aknife. He'd crudely colored in the rest of the page. Zoe laughed more atthe idea that her brother, all dressed up as Little. More

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