At 3AM (because everything always happens at 3AM) everything looks very full of possibility, and some guy, who once was Chrisie’s boyfriend and has always scared me, says scorching. I forget a little bit how badly I wanted lie down along the edge the curb the day before and not move ever.
Johno and I save [...]

With my eyes squeezed shut, embarrassed, inexplicably, deadly mortified with little real reason to be - only how they smile from the corners of their lips looking at something else but noticing you, and the awkward exchange of words with your awkward contributions, and my god! the silences! - I walk home, acutely aware for [...]

Filling up ‘embarrassing gaps’. Or thinking about it. At 2am it is too late, or too early, to begin a constructive exercise in metaphorical putty filling. Tomorrow, or later today (depending on what makes a new day), I shall start for real.
.
Fo’ sho’.

I admit.
The typewriter is fun.

Wander with the Mighty CL and Joe through the dripping streets of West End, Glasgow. They take me to a junk shop where Joe buys a typewriter, a heavy sturdy thing with all the satisfying clunky sounds required of such a machine. It comes in a black plastic case. I picture him sitting at his [...]

Opa kept fishes in tanks which took over the small flat. Sometimes he pulled out a little black stool and let me feed the fish in top tanks, and the smell of fish food on my fingers would linger for a night. One time I took the lid off a tank to watch the fish [...]

India kicks from beneath her feet a tangle of duvet and traces with her finger through the hot white ashes a featureless face.  It spans the width of the bedroom, from door to heater. Impressive. No eyes, no mouth, a gaping empty oval, very void of expression. She whispers void void void at the singed [...]

Turned up nose and endless legs, a string of charms rattling from her wrist. A charm bracelet, she explains, This one is from Scott, when the letters hanging from her do not match the letters of her name. Tara or Tamara or Tammy, she danced hesitantly, as if she expected someone to tell her she [...]

I force myself to stare into the murky depths of my iced latté, scuba diving with a pink plastic straw. Concentrate very hard on my bobbing ice cubes holding in their convex hollows little rock pools of brown granulated sugar, which crunches when I bite down. In the corner sits my old, both ancient and [...]

Saw the ex today: we both sat, with a desk between us to hinder the competitive head-bowing-over-paper race, the who-can-line-up-the-most-spent-biros competition, a three hour History exam. Three of us left at the end, and his hand, once again, is wafting the rafters for extra sheets of paper. I heard you tutting, he says. More of [...]