Vanna.

Vanna Looking oddly tough in her wife beater and a pair of her husband’s checked boxer shorts, Van comes to sit beside me on her sofa. “Dinner” she announces, and then pauses. “Now let me think”. She glances over at the armoury of cookbooks sitting unassumingly on her coffee table and heaves them onto her…

Liberté

She sits in debris. Rubble presses into her thighs and she shifts, uncomfortable. She has always enjoyed mess but this is just so vast, she can’t seem to see the end of it. Picking up a shard of glass, she runs her fingers over the jagged edges knowing she will get cut. She does. It…

On Attire and Temptation

Old fashioned, by visforseagull As a journalist, there is almost no end to the diversity of people I meet on a day-to-day basis. Having worked a year and a half in the media, my experiences have almost all been good ones and I can say the same for the people I have met. I learned…

Conversation

Two women, awake when they shouldn’t be but unable to sleep, start to talk to each other. Why are relationships so important to us?, the first asks, biting her lip. She is worried, sad about something, but doesn’t say what. They shouldn’t be. The second shrugs. God knows. We should only depend on ourselves. Then…