Rainsong

These feelings come, like inspiration, through the cracks in the quiet of night-time, like spiders that bite when you?re asleep. When I see them trying to stick their spindly legs under the skirting board I stamp my feet and slap my knees and play music to help distract me, as if distraction is all it… Continue reading Rainsong

A Study in the Art of Revolution II

When I was five, Dean B?? bullied me for my freckles. It?s my first memory of primary school. I was self-conscious about the way my skin looked for years afterwards. The comments didn?t stop as I got older, either. I remember being 13 and walking out of Middle Brighton train station in summer in a… Continue reading A Study in the Art of Revolution II