The unpredictability of Dee I knew her comfort was poisonous. It was bottled in glass the same shade as my envy from Saturday night. I still accepted it; unable to battle the lullaby close to my ear and every delicate drag through my hair. It was witchcraft or my weakness. My inability to see friend … Continue reading The Dee Diaries #2
Little acts of braveryEvery day this week, thus far, I have opened the curtains in every room. You would be right in thinking this is a metaphor for letting the light in. It is similar to polishing ageing ornaments or dusting away the cobwebs. Whenever Dee arrives, I hide. I close every curtain, put my … Continue reading The Dee Diaries #1
'Her face was both changed and unchanged. She still had sharp, pixie features. Her lips were childishly full and the corners still turned downwards. Her eyes shone like pebbles washed with waves but did not glisten. The dull pallor of her skin and crow’s feet suggested she was older. As did her height. This was … Continue reading The Dee Diaries
