room, trying to measure out the steels and the angles and all the other stripped-back habitat arcana, and then for a second I drifted and thought of the colour under the tarp, what I was seeing, the coral pools and electric sky and the way it makes all the other colours so much brighter when I stumble down from the loft and into the gravel yard. And I thought of Anne of Green Gables and the way she notices the colour changes, how she calls them out, disarming, inventive, unashamed. And if you can’t see it too you’re not living. I wouldn’t mock one word of that book. All great characters in the stories we crave speak the truths we hold in.
