The Unadoptables

‘The full moon rose over us,’ Layla sang, while she carefully joined two pieces of metal together in the broiling, cramped welding bay.

Mary Lawson was the first to die. Leaving Euston station shortly before 6.45 a.m, she made straight for her favourite breakfast stall.

My first ever race could have been a complete disaster.

I open my eyes and I am tangled in the sheets, books upside down on the floor.

You have arrived for a better life at the New House in the New Land.

From the ages of four to six, I thought I was a dog.

At the time I first realized I might be fictional, my weekdays were spent at a publicly funded institution on the north side of Indianapolis.

It’s a weirdly subtle situation. I almost don’t notice I’m being blackmailed.

The stench of horse manure woke Max Einstein with a jolt.

I don't mean to be dramatic, but God save me from Morgan picking our set list.

‘You keep runnin’, you’ll only go to jail tired,’ Ben Silver muttered.

The first person I saved was a dog.