Nair Napa, the gritty new crime fiction from the creators of Meercat mystery.

Sergei, are you still in the bath?

Yes, I'm listening to my podcast.

Can I come in?

Ah, no, no, no, no, oh, just need to grab the claw clippers, don't worry, I'll cover my eyes.

What? Whoa!

Whoa!

Whoa!

Whoa!

I'm still not looking and I'm not listening to my podcast don't want it

me i'm happy at it simples ha

he was a sailboat coming back into the bay.

My wife had asked me to stop on a way home, and so we pulled into the small scenic area on the cliffside road to watch the boats. She would often sketch them, and she did so then on a notepad.

I remember eventually looking away from the sailboat to instead admire her and she, deep in a drawings, didn't see the truck.

I saw it only in a flash over a shoulder.

I know it hit her and I must have been thrown under the cliffside. That was the last thing I remember.

The sailboat and then I was here.

The doctor nodded, finally looking up from his notes.

He clicked his pen, absentmindedly for a while.

I shifted my weight in the stiff hallway chair and moved the ice back from the bruise on my head to those on my lower back.

I had only suffered a mild concussion and miraculously no broken bones.

In the time I'd been unconscious and examined, my wife had been taken into emergency surgery.

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