ABSTRACT
One of my own stories, ‘Twentieth Frame’ (Blackburn et al. 1984: 116), is conceived as a series of snapshots. Geoffrey, the first-person narrator, serves as a camera; we see each numbered ‘frame’ through his mind’s eye:
1. Light knifes through the open window. My head aches from the train journey, and now from George’s talk, driving too fast round the lanes. ‘. . . In a few years it’ll pay for itself . . .’ Her arm stretched towards the farthest corner of the glass, she leans out, Windowlene in hand. Scarf on head. Without hair, a face as innocent as a baby doll. I screw my eyes to catch the round eyes and the mouth in the sun. When she sees us coming, she
waves. She smiles, but she keeps herself vacant. You must be Joyce.
