What's the Point?
When you finally manage to lift the head off your pillow on the cold morning, and you let your feet … Read more
Pieces of Us
If death just meant leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new … Read more
Walking Away
Celestine, Later in the evening, when you get back to the house, you will find a small black trash … Read more
The Suicide Note
Dear Pat, I am writing because I am unable to do anything else. Unable to breathe. Unable to think. … Read more
Memories of the Ghost
The Saturday chill, at 7:05 a.m., makes me curl my toes inside the cosy blanket as I turn on the … Read more
The Pillows
I manage to slip out of the office at midday, hoping that what I have done for the day will be … Read more
Unquenched Thirsts
Every day, I continue to hate the very first day our paths crossed. I curse at the cold morning, … Read more
Stalker in my Head
I am struggling to breathe. I am panting. I am trying, in vain, to pull myself up. There are a … Read more
