How to save the romance for another day.

It's Sunday, July 5 (the very date printed on a bottle of milk in my fridge) which means I'm late

Gusts knocked the bush about, and it didn't seem to notice the brief drama that unfolded beneath its leaves.

I'm trying to write a book. Fuck you. Hey, do you think it's a bad omen to have Jack Torrence as the cover picture?

To mark R U OK? day I thought I would share with you a personal experience.