Most of my stories find me unprepared, caught in traffic, or wandering through breezeways crowded with serious faces and ever more serious bags full of expensive textbooks. Ration found me in the dark and caught me with a single sound. A bare foot step on a thin sodden carpet. Typically, a story pays no attention to my current location or activity, it doesn’t care if I am teaching or commuting, it wants to be heard. Ration whispered in the early hours and after the lights were low and only after I agreed to be still and keep the blinds open to the rain. Characters had their say, peering over my shoulder and slipping away when their words ran dry. Ration is unlike anything I’ve written before and it continues to inhabit the darker spaces of my mind, bare feet scuffing hallways that I have only just begun to explore.