Goodbye Lucy

Dear Lucy, First, happy birthday! That year you were scared of is here now, no longer leering at you from across the table. How does it feel, being the age that Sylvia Plath wrote about in Mrs Lazarus? Have you died and been resurrected? Are you closer to finding what you are looking for? Are …

She stays over for most weekends and for some week nights. I have never seen him like this, cuddling with a woman in front of any one. He is mostly aloof and distant. I gather this is what attracted all those other girls to him in the first place, the air of mystery and the …

Blue on a Bright Blue Day

It is a beautiful day, airy and so bright blue. My own blue that feels black makes that blue seem stark white. I am drowning in an ungraspable melancholy. I do not know why or from where these feelings come. Wait, I do! I do not allow myself to feel them, these grey swinging-low moods. …

Fading

Yesterday I had to strain to remember her face, squinting into a stranger’s, looking for the curve of her full lips. The stranger did not notice, carried as she was by the evening swell of people coming from work, going to work, just going. Her voice is a distant whisper, as is her warmth, as …