Some thoughts, a year on. The primary way I seem to have dealt with things is that I have locked almost all the memories of my mother in a tight strongbox inside my chest – to open it is to release so many thoughts of her, all of which cause me so much pain. It… Continue reading More on Grief
It was in the staff takeaway shop that I saw a tray of red velvet cake slices and felt a deep sadness that I couldn’t even understand until much later, when I remembered that my mother had asked me to get her a piece some days before she died. That is how the grief appears in… Continue reading Of Grief.
” There are stories that are true, in which each individual’s tale is unique and tragic, and the worst of the tragedy is that we have heard it before, and we cannot allow ourselves to feel it too deeply. We build a shell around it like an oyster dealing with a painful particle of grit,… Continue reading of death and responsibility.
At the beginning of the A levels, I wrote three short stories which were and probably will remain my most favourite ever. They were written at a time which was very turbulent, and after them I didn’t write anything creative for a very long time. Stranger is one of the three. It has taken some… Continue reading Day 7 – Stranger
I saw a pink van today. After so long. And I thought of you. You would’ve been 18 by now. And I would give all the pink vans in the world just to be with you again. 12-12-07 . Rest in Peace.