![]() Once both clocks had been stilled, the passage of time was marked only in large, slow movements of the seasons though she had noticed lately how rapidly even the seasons had taken to coming around. ![]() What was the point of saving herself from having to hear the seconds tick-tocking away in her room, like raindrops on a window, or tears down a cheek, if every hour, on the hour, the chimes downstairs rang out? First, in the early hours of one sleepless dawn, the one in her room at the top of the winding stairs, and then, some years later, when she realised the door was no longer secured (had it ever been?), the big chiming clock down on the lowest landing. Long ago the old princess had stopped the clocks in her tower. Her journalism appeared in the London Review of Books, among other publications. Jenny Diski was the author of ten novels, five books of travel and memoir, two volumes of essays, and a collection of short stories. The only story collection from the beloved Jenny Diski-darkly funny, subversive, sexy, and eccentric tales from one of the most original and intelligent voices of our time. The following is from Jenny Diski’s collection, The Vanishing Princess. ![]()
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