lost bets, lost loves, lost light. Narrators squint, "cock-eyed", trying to make sense of the smudged forms in their suburban gardens. When night falls, there is nothing to see outside but your face in the glass. Memory becomes the centre of dramatic action--"limitless memory starting up in the dark"--although it's often unreliable. A man wakes up on a beach with no idea how he came to be there; another endures glimpses of a sunlit past he couldn't protect.from The Guardian: Night by David Harsent--review
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