Do I have a point hidden in all these ramblings? Who knows.
I’m feeling good. Truly.
There’s this one spot in Edinburgh Airport I pass each time I’m there. It’s a pillar by one of the gates with a socket in its base that doesn’t quite work. I know this because I sat there once, leaning against the plug of my charger to keep the power going into my phone, eking out the free wi-fi, as for the first time, message by message, someone told me the story of how they fell in love with me.
A transcendent moment I'll never forget.
This little poem was written during a thunderstorm in August 2017. It is even more poignant to me now and it seems fitting to use it to round out the month and to mark the new chapter of my life opening up before me.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, there is always a timer ticking down. Often there’s several, all clicking away in an eerie harmony that keeps me awake some nights.
I don't usually post full-length stories just in case I want to submit any of them to magazines that don't take simultaneous submissions. But I'm not planning on sending this delightful, dark romp to anywhere.
Here, have a short essay about Hamlet I'm moderately proud of. Seems quite pointless to have them just sitting around on my hard drive.
It's been a difficult week.
I wrote this poem last year when I was at a very low point with my bodily self-esteem, my hopes for the future, my opinions of my work. The first draft poured out as a cry to escape, to just be able to leave this body, to not be stuck here anymore. Editing shaped the …