Sublime

Have I allowed myself to be so lulled, so infantilised by the ever-present, always anticipated service of this luxury resort that I have surrendered my free will, my judgement?

she was little; hepaticas, trillium, jack-in-the-pulpit.

trenchant,

She was Melissa’s oldest, boldest friend. They had gone to the same primary school. Hazel worked in advertising. She had a wide and glamorous smile behind which was an oft-foul tongue, and long, bouncing, half-French, half-Ghanaian curls falling down her back, the most beautiful, the most envied of their schoolgirl pack, the one the boys always wen

And because denial, fabrication—storytelling—was her way of staying one step ahead of her life, how could any of us tell her she was wrong?