Bi Visibility Day

I appreciate that most of my audience already knows which side my complicated, hyper-dimensional, x-y-z axes-possessing bread is buttered, but there’s a handful of people who don’t. Today is Bi Visibility Day, and it seems only right that as I decloaked myself on FB, I should also put in the effort on my blog.

The Stag Do, pt 9

All I’d had left was a phantom stitched together from cherry-picked memories. No screaming matches, no sullen silences with pursed lips, and definitely no willful attempts to steer clear of one another even as we sat around the same small campfire. My ghostly goddess of good times picked out by wood sparks and the wrong side of morning.

The Stag Do, pt 8

“Stop. Just fucking stop.” He batted away the hand I was reaching towards him. “We’re not 20 any more. We don’t have our whole lives ahead of us. We don’t have time to waste. Sad reality is, we never did. And some of us have never had the fucking privilege to sit back and waste what little we had. So now we fucking die. Just like that. Life ends the way it continued to be. We vanish, no one gives a shit, and that’s it. You can’t coast your way out of this one, so get comfortable with it. And don’t you dare bitch at me about what is and isn’t fair.”

The Stag Do, pt 7

Growing, anticipatory terror dripped its way down my spine. I wanted to shout out – to tell Paul to get the fuck out of there, that he’d done enough by trying – but my larynx was fully paralysed with hot tension as the fear dribbled its way to my shoulders, my arms, my guts and legs. My mind was filled with a field of eyes reflecting back torchlight.