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In the village of Mildew, on Grimbleton Hill, and down by the seashore, and just past the mill, and deep in the woods under all of the trees, the Murkmares are there, where one never sees.
The Murkmares live in forests, near beaches, in towns, and in fields.
Nothing under the trees is in a hurry. They are the oldest Murkmares and the most patient, and they will wait a week for one sleeper to roll over.
Morning sign
Creases on your cheek. They press bark to your face all night, and the pattern stays until lunch.
Custom
They never take their hats off, so moss grows on the brims. The mossiest hat leads.
Home
Under tree roots.
Drink
Dew from a toadstool, with a beetle.
These are the Murkmares in the book. The houses of Mildew lean on each other, packed tight, and the Murkmares packed in with them learned order. They queue, they work two by two, and the last in line tips his hat.
Home
The gaps between the leaning houses.
Drink
Pond-scum with milk and a flea.
Morning sign
All six, in order. The Field Guide
Every house in Mildew has paid one sock a week since 1811.
Morning sign
One sock missing.
A field is ploughed, sown, grown and cut, and never stays the same for long, so these Murkmares never stay put. They follow the harvest from farm to farm.
Morning sign
Sneezing at breakfast. They dust your pillow with pollen from wherever they have been.
Custom
They tip their hats to the scarecrow on the way out of every farm.
Home
Wherever they were last night.
Drink
Rain from a cart rut, with a stalk of wheat.
Most nights a fog comes in off the sea, and they come in with it, so nobody sees them arrive.
Morning sign
Sheets that are damp and smell a little of seaweed.
Custom
When the foghorn sounds, every one of them stops and stands still until it ends.
Home
The fishermen’s cottages, behind the nets.
This page is about the Murkmares themselves: what they are made of, how they live, and what they do all day.
Maps drawn from the reports.
For older readers and grown-ups, after the children are in bed.
They are small, and they’re grey, and they come by the dozens. Every night they get to work: cold toes, knotted hair, crusty eyes, and something on your tongue you’d rather forget.
A darkly funny bedtime book about why you wake up the way you do.
The Murkmares, or, Sleep Tight. A rhyming picture book, illustrated in a scratchy pen-and-ink style. It is for brave readers and the grown-ups who read to them. Paperback.
They are patient. They are quiet. They are not at all sweet.
