Anne Enright’s best stuff for me is that clutch of impressionistic, unresolving pieces she had out in the New Yorker 2015ish or so. But I love the casual savagery of this one. Afterwards I felt like a tree branch cleft off by a storm – unsocketed, left hanging. Nobody does it like her.
First published in Taking Pictures, Jonathan Cape, 2008. Also available in Yesterday’s Weather, Vintage, 2009
A Personal Anthology 