Winding down the window as she drives, she sticks her head out for the fading sun to caress her face, and for a second, closes her eyes and finds herself flying through the sky like a bird free of chains. Opening her mouth, she tastes the rush of warm air and all at once thinks of her childhood pets, and how there had been a time when they had been alive, and not the cold bones they came to be. She knows she should open her eyes again, but there’s a part of her looking for a way out, some piece that doesn’t belong. That wishes so much to return to the stars. Putting her foot down, she dreams of ploughing into the back of a bus; a moment of pain and then infinite peace. Shaking the thought from her head, she opens her eyes and finds herself veering into the opposite lane and into the path of an oncoming bus. Such irony. Swerving out of its way, she droops her right arm out the window and taps the side of the car with her fingers causing Herbie to curl into a ball for fear of an impending attack. Looking down at him, she sings some more of her song until he feels relaxed, and in no time at all he’s sprawled out in her lap with his nose twitching in his sleep. She’s miles from where she needs to be, for the beauty spot she has in mind is over on the other side of town, and yet despite her suicidal tendencies, the journey is a pleasant one, for she enjoys seeing parts of the town she hasn’t stepped foot in for far too long. Over to her left is an indoor shopping centre she used to go with her parents on Saturday mornings. Her mum would shop for clothes while her and her dad would visit the butchers to buy their weekly supply of fresh meat. After, her dad would treat her to an ice cream, although she wasn’t to tell mum, because she believed such sweets would be bad for X’s little teeth. Her dad knew better though. He always did. Smiling, she slows down and looks across the passenger seat to see if the butchers is still there. It’s not. Nor is her mum’s favoured clothes store. Things change, and yet somewhere, out there, she’s sure those days still exist somehow. Approaching a set of lights, she goes to turn left and then cuts to the right and turns off in the opposite direction to a chorus of blaring horns. Without realising, she’s going to the place she last saw him, a place she’s so often drawn to yet never ventures.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US