Small Reminders (Simile)
In "Ashes," Chris is surrounded by his late father's possessions, especially while driving his car. Kennedy writes, "since his father died, Chris keeps coming across small reminders everywhere, set like mousetraps ready to snap, like little buried landmines" (18). These little reminders are related through gradually more unpleasant and deadly similes. First, like mousetraps, then like landmines. Neither are pleasant surprises, and they characterize Chris's relationship with the memory of his father, and his relationship with the grieving process, in strongly negative terms.
A Plane Door Closing (Metaphor)
At the end of "Laminex and Mirrors," when the narrator takes Mr. Moreton out for a cigarette, as they're standing outside, she hears the propped door close behind them. Kennedy describes it—"there is a terrible echoing click as it closes on its own deadlock, and I recognise the sound as soon as I hear it. It is the sound of a plane door closing without me, ready to taxi down a runway and take off for London" (53). The metaphor of course maps a similar sound onto the door, but extends the consequences of not getting Mr. Moreton back to his room unnoticed to the fact that the narrator won't be able to buy her ticket to London, which was originally the whole purpose of her getting this job.
Des's Voice (simile)
At the end of "Five-Dollar Family," when Michelle starts breastfeeding in front of Coles, Des is baffled. He protests at the public display, and Kennedy writes, "but his voice is like someone you're hanging up on, going small and high-pitched and distant as you put the phone down" (112). This simile marks the distinct end of Michelle's relationship with Des. The hanging-up of the phone is a concrete disconnect, and the moment of bonding between mother and son immediately short-circuits the toxic connection between Des and Michelle.
Heavy Lifting (Simile)
In "Sleepers," Ray reflects on how he's the only single man at Steve's barbecue, and the only single man he knows. He'd like to strike up a conversation with the women at the barbecue, but "he sat back down with his laden plate on one of the sleepers instead, because the thought of trying to get a conversation going with any of them felt like heavy lifting" (133). This story is so concerned with languor and exhaustion, and Kennedy's language and subtle nudges toward a possible-but-not-definite medical cause stack this sluggish pace onto the reader's experience. This simile is one of many examples of Kennedy feeding this sense of weight in the story with words like "laden" and analogies like weight-lifting.
Like a House on Fire (Simile)
A simile central not only to the titular story, but also to the entire collection, is "like a house on fire." The simile is taken from an idiom, "to get on like a house on fire," which is actually a positive thing. It means that a relationship kick-starts immediately—if two people get on like a house on fire, they really "hit it off." But Kennedy pushes into this idiom and encourages her readers to question the validity and integrity of the simile. In "Like a House on Fire," the narrator offers his own emendation to the ideal "fire" of a marriage. He says, "this is how you do it, ... stick by careful stick over the ashes, oxygen and fuel, a controlled burn" (92).
