by Caro Harvey Cooper
She was breathing through her mouth again. It still amazed Anna that such a delicate mouth could make such a grating sound when left untended. It turned from beautiful lipsticked source of wisdom and witty remarks to cavernous wind tunnel – the same way a garden could be so peaceful when the sun shone but as soon as the light disappeared only rapists and rabid beasts could be found crunching over the dead and dying leaves. Her mouth became a tool of the devil; it kept Anna awake and was destroying their love. Anna had always wondered what it would be like to slide down a giant cheese grater, how much it would hurt – she believed this was the aural equivalent. She scrunched her fist and punched the pillow right next to the snoring head, half hoping to make contact with her lover's skull.
Caro Harvey Cooper, author of The Streets are Grinning, has a second thumb on her left hand, so she's perfectly suited to write (and count) six sentences.