Snow White

Kristiana Reed

My Screaming Twenties

Today is Sunday and I’m by the sea. I’m wearing a batman t-shirt; which is ironic because I’m in no fit state to save a city, too wrapped up in being the vigilante of my own body and soul. It’s pleasantly breezy and quiet and warm. The sky is cerulean blue. Or, at least I hope it is. I’m toying with the idea of taking off my sunglasses; to pierce my eyes with holiday sky but I don’t want to be disappointed by an aquamarine. I wonder if lonely walks to clear my head wrapped in sunshine are what being a writer is all about. Or, if this is just what depression is. Are those two things mutually exclusive? My sandals are digging in and I wonder if I deserve it. The woman to my left, sat on a bank of grass, is crying. She’s hiding it well; a coffee cup, sunglasses…

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