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Continue reading →: Write every day
They say that a habit can be stronger than love. I try to write every day. Something little. Something pointless. Sometimes I find that my pointless things have a point. These are the good days. Sometimes it is good to do something pointless.
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Continue reading →: A list of books I am halfway through reading
163 days by Hannah Hodgson – a poetry book sent to me to review by the publisher. Who knew you could fit so much emotion between two covers. Porn by Polly Barton – a non-fiction book picked up a few days ago in a bookshop. A collection of conversations about…
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Continue reading →: Never leave home without it
Here is me in Venice, taking a moment to scribble in my journal (because anxiety, travel anxiety, anxiety, anxiety and… anxiety):
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Continue reading →: A mistake
I tried a new coffee shop. Walking into a sea of navy blue and black suits, my pink hoody is a lighthouse in a storm. A woman nearby talks loudly to colleagues. I am unwittingly drawn in. “I never took a career break. Never took time for myself. Never started…
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Continue reading →: Right twice a day
The clock in the empty cafeteria is stuck at quarter to ten. Without fail, every week, I arrive around this time and think the clock has been fixed. It has not.
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Continue reading →: Autumn’s end
It came overnight – the cold. A sudden drop in temperature that none of us expected, but we all should have expected. It’s December, after all. Winter is nearly here. The beauty of Autumn is now a squishy mess underfoot.
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Continue reading →: Commute
The train isn’t busy, but I stand. Backpacks on free seats and warning glances when I approach keep me on my feet. I’m dressed for winter but still hot from the shower. I rushed out, hair damp, shoes untied; a chaotic train schedule breaking my morning flow. My hands feel…






