Edward Bulmer

My wicked, smart, lovely niece Molly, 10 years old, imagines the life and death of the virus Covidou.

Frank told a bad joke at his new place of work. Nobody laughed. Now at 3am in the morning he is unable to sleep as he obsesses and ruminates over this social faux-pas, leading him to ponder on the nature of memory itself.

Gareth suffers from a debilitating sense of self-doubt — which manifests in the form of a hedgehog.