On a small island, you don’t need a newspaper. The news finds you — sometimes even before it happens.

Who’s with whom, who was seen with what, who stopped sweeping their yard, or suddenly drives a brand-new car. It spreads with the speed of a goat with its tail on fire and the sense of direction of a lost cow in the Quill.

Truth is optional. If it sounds good, it travels.

Gossip isn’t slander — it’s orientation. Or better yet: a form of reorientation. Knowing your neighbours, who just bought a generator, or who was recently spotted at the Chinese place with someone who definitely didn’t look like their wife.

Want to get the word out? Tell someone and make sure to say it’s a secret.

Sometimes you hear a story about yourself before you even knew it happened.