The weekend started off with hope, as all weekends do. Your laugh ringing against the tin walls of our car, the smoky tyres crunching over the cool gravel, and the wood slightly darker…

I stare at the table in the corner of the room. Table 9. It’s a table of four. Every night, picturesque families of four, dashing couples on double dates, old retired mates come…

I was entirely alone, in what seemed to be the basement of the universe, without the sun, the wind, the rain. Nothing. Without light, my dark divine skin, once shining and glowing, became…