Once upon a time, a man, a woman and a cat were walking through a deep forest. All three had walked for what felt like a thousand miles and each but the smallest member of the party balanced precariously on blistered, swollen feet. Night had fallen only an hour ago but its polished granite blackness above the treetops seemed to hint at a stark permanence and corresponding adjustments to the way life would be lived. Just as the man and the woman felt they could not possibly walk any more, they chanced upon a stone bothy at the edge of a small clearing. The bothy showed few signs of recent occupation: the man entered first and found only a strip of dirty unspecified cloth, a broken tankard and the decayed skeleton of an apple core on its mud floor. Its roof had a hole, but this was covered by the thick twisted limbs of ivy, which for now would go some way to keeping out the advancing weather, which the woman could feel in her finger joints. “Here?” she said. “Here,” nodded the man.
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