It begins as an ordinary day of frayed nerves and suburban fractiousness. Following a sharp argument with his wife, Graham sets out across London with his young daughter, Jasmine. It is a journey born of a need for space – on the surface, a simple drive to clear the air.

But as they move through the city, the familiar begins to feel inexplicably foreign.

The motorways are tightening. The air is changing. On every screen, in every shop window, a recurring image of a remote island haunts the broadcast – an image that pulls Graham back toward a childhood he has tried to outrun.

As the horizon darkens and the path home becomes increasingly uncertain, Graham is forced to navigate the shifting boundary between a father's protective instinct and a world that is rapidly losing its grip on the known.

The Island is a devastatingly controlled novella from one of the UK's finest poets. It is a story of what remains when the structures of the everyday fall away: the memories we cannot escape, and the desperate, quiet love between a father and his child.

A sharp, unsettling masterpiece of domestic tension and encroaching catastrophe.