Unentitled

Dreaming I am in a music room of a school. I am sitting with a group of people singing a song that is very familiar to me, less so to them. I take the manuscript to the piano and begin to play, but it doesn’t come as easily as it used to. I try for a few minutes and then stop. I am feeling overwhelmed by a cellist and a violinist on my left. I go into the corridor; it is lunchtime. Rosie is in the corridor holding a lit piece of rolled-up paper. She…

Reaquainting

There are many things that people might think are the worst things about the kind of relationship I’m in. Maybe they think it’s the shouting and screaming, or they may believe it’s the actual words that get said. They may see it as the manipulation that’s the hardest thing to bear, or the constant worry…