Christmas and Cold Nights and the Missing

And they were sore afraid

The radiators get so hot in the book shop these days that I can only lean against them for a brief time, so hot that when the outside of my synthetic coat rests against the heavy iron, the coat gets tacky and threatens to melt. People come in with flushed faces, coats pulled tight, wiggling their shoulders to shrug off the cold. They look shocked, as if…