Touching something, touching home

Every year, for longer than I can remember, we’ve gone in the sea on boxing day. The cold chattering of sororal teeth, the quick strip and dash into a rising tide. Galloping over waves too large or too little and never quite just right. For almost every birthday I’ve submurged my whole body in theContinue

Monday Windows

I am supposed to be working, but I’m not. Please don’t tell me boss. If you’re my boss, hi there – I’ll get that stuff done really soon I promise. On my desk is a mug full of daffodils (It’s a very big mug), two more enormous mugs, one with the dregs of a homeContinue