Anger

“My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.”

Tick Tock

We drive long, winding country lanes, empty of other cars, through rolling green hills, over model railroad bridges, trees stretching to the early evening sky. Our destination: an old 19th century hunting lodge deep in the countryside. A group of men stand outside smoking, surrounded by midges in the cool June air, looking out over…

Out of the Woods

We meet in a nondescript coffee shop in a post-industrial town. It’s a greyish day and the little town holds memories of my youth, trapped in the sands of time. Teenage angst and social anxiety hang in the air like a cloud. The past clashes with the present. The world was simpler then, but I…