33: Grated Orange

Today is a Day Job day. Stop complaining, I hear you say; do your bit for society and be grateful. I feel grateful, as in grated and full. Bits of my skin have been grated off and the wounds have been allowed to fester. The infection was supposed to make its way into me, toContinue reading “33: Grated Orange”

A Dotty Dance: Silly Questions

If eyes are hidden behind curtain of overgrown fringe, are they really there? If spots are hidden behind sheets of yellow-brown foundation, do they really exist? Or have the eyes, and the spots, departed from this world and entered another? Do they dance the tango together, in an alternative existence, in celebration of their dottyContinue reading “A Dotty Dance: Silly Questions”


I take her on a journey through the mess in my house: the sweet wrappers, looking pretty, with a shiny red glow; and the cereal boxes, turned in on themselves, and painted white; and the half-full bottles of spinach juice; the glitter sparkling; and the beige foundation – crumbling and sinking into salmon pink. SheContinue reading “Therapist”