It hangs there in the cupboard. Breathing in through its many pores the combined fragrance of mothballs and air-fresheners, and the mustiness of damp. A muddy grey, it falls from the outstretched arms of the hanger, the skin of a beast from which the soul has fled. Limp, lifeless and deceptively calm."

Listen to "The Hippoman" written and narrated by Anita Nair, only on Storytel.