As I approached the deep end of the poola thought occurred,crystal clear.In that instantI understood:fear could not be foundanywhere outside of myself.No matter the tragic event,it is my mindthat gives fear its shape,and names ittrauma.

Turmoil:His earliest memory was lying on a hospital bed in a darkened room being put to sleep with gas. He remembered a suffocating sensation, having a rubber mask fitted to his face, a strange-funny odour, feeling himself smile, laughing,...

Vixen:There was a loud, persistent rapping on the front door. It could only be Georgie. He leapt off the bed and bounded down the stairs like a greyhound chasing a hare, a hound smelling the scent of a vixen,...

Georgie:‘I remember how the lights flickered, then came on, as the train entered the tunnel. I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I felt totally shagged if I’m honest. That night, I admit, I’d enjoyed myself pleasuring him....