I’ve written before about how reading was my first and preferred escape from the prolonged trauma of my life for over twenty years, particularly through my teenager-hood. I was given … Continue reading White whales.
I’ve written before about how reading was my first and preferred escape from the prolonged trauma of my life for over twenty years, particularly through my teenager-hood. I was given … Continue reading White whales.
I’m a living ghost story. Or at least that’s how it feels sometimes. I’m not entirely sure how to pinpoint exactly when it happened. I used to think I knew. … Continue reading Ghost story.