7th November 2008 LJK Literary Management FAO Mr Laghi Dear Mr Laghi, Have you ever wondered what makes you the person you are? Is it your life experiences and memories? Is it the relationships you form with those around you? Is it your biological self - your DNA, your cells? How about your mind? Your ‘soul’? Philosophers have pondered the nature of personal identity for centuries without coming to a conclusion about what makes a person the same person today as they we...

*4.38am: The End* I stumble out of the club. The cold air hits me and makes me shiver. The material of my dress sticks to my clammy skin. I tingle all over. The pavement is moving - rolling and heaving. I fall. Shit! The tarmac is wet and rough. My knee is grazed. I lean against the wall and rest my cheek against the brick. It feels nice and cool. Must get home. Where’s my bag? Shit, I’ve left it in the club. But I can’t go back. Why can’t I go back? Something happened. Something with Jess… W...

Callista slowly opened one eye and peered around her, her vision still blurry with sleep and dust, trying to recall where she was. Waking up she sat up slowly and stretched, feeling the knots in her back and neck ease slightly. Looking around her she saw people strewn all over the hillside, some shaking out cloaks and blankets, others lighting fires, whilst others were still sleeping off the excesses of the night before, their cloaks drawn over their heads, creating the impression of mounds o...

As the crowds began applauding and cheering the next series of leapers entering the arena, Callista led the girl by the hand through the press of bodies towards the yard where she knew Telenia would have been taken. The girl followed Callista dumbly, her cheeks streaked from where her tears had cut channels through the dust on her face. She had cried at first as she watched her sister be carried from the arena, and Callista had held her tightly and stroked her hair, but now she seemed to be n...

I walk through the woodland listening to the sound of raindrops falling through the canopy, impacting on the leaves on their way down. My feet feel wet. I glance down at the puddle I am standing in and at the brown ooze of mud, rotten leaves and bark seeping into my shoes through the decorative holes cut into the white leather. _What inappropriate footwear for a walk in the woods, my mother would say… I think._ My hair feels cold and wet, the tendrils of my fringe stuck to my forehead. Wet ri...

Water swirled around her as Callista frantically struggled to get to the surface. She screamed at the waters, and then struggled to follow the bubbles rising to the surface but could not seem to swim upwards. Gritting her teeth in determination she pulled at the water with strong strokes, but it was as if something from below was dragging her inexorably downwards. Her movements became weaker and weaker and what little headway she had made was quickly lost as she tired, her body sinking slowly...