The IntruderThe heads of the flowers are purple. Even the scattered wood pile is aromatic. Shrubs explode into green splinters and the air is super-heated. Dwellingup in January, and you sense by noon a tactile touchdown on floral sheets. Your compassionate friend has given you her house, a page of notes: the way the light falls, how the heat works its way through the house. I've made up the front room, please eat all the food! In the table centre...