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Her father didn’t light the flames, they had burned since he began, and he watched the embers, with a tender eye, waiting for his precious progeny to emerge.

My bed begged me to be blue, frozen and fixed to her soft sheets, adored and enveloped by her warmth as a new week began, and another Monday made its way towards me. I could see her argument, and I could hear my alarm, insistent and quite desperate, and I could feel her embrace, and…

There was a phone number scrawled atop the motorway bridge, hotline to an angel, who couldn’t quite understand, but would endeavour to try. Everybody is trying, and life tries to be sweet, but she just wasn’t made that way, and some days, people find themselves atop the motorway bridge, trying to stop their hearts from…