A trip of infinite sadness and regret

I've been sorting through index cards, rogue pieces of paper and old photos because I'm moving. Moving out of the city, and returning to the trees and all of the secrets they're waiting to tell me. They've been calling me for a while, and it's time. I've become weary of city living over the last couple … Continue reading A trip of infinite sadness and regret

The birth of my fourth decade

I've been thinking about my thirties. About how they started, and how they're about to end. Ten years ago at my thirtieth birthday party, I was bloated from massive doses of steroids I'd had to have earlier in the year due to a serious respiratory virus. I was puffy faced and swollen, and going into my third … Continue reading The birth of my fourth decade

My night without armour

May-August 1998 I was in the dying room. You know the one. It's quiet. People slip in and out as though they were never there. Festering in a bed for three months, I had grown tired. My arms were the shape of soft baguettes, peppered with freckles like sesame seeds. Lips, a permanent shade of blue. Colourless … Continue reading My night without armour