Memory is an artist, an impressionist. She adds colour, sound, smell and emotion to events at her whim. She adds, subtracts and embellishes until the event she started documenting is quite unrecognisa...
Emotions don’t arrive intact. Shards injure you incrementally, so small at first you don’t notice them. Over time, the damage builds and one day you realise the nicks and cuts have become gaping wound...
Maybe that’s the way of love. It doesn’t wait to be invited in, and it won’t be coerced. It gently creeps under your skin, a mild itch at first, not giving itself away in case you scratch it and cause...
