This story was written after the Pulse horror, an awful reminder that as much as we grow more accepting, we seem to keep stumbling back.
The very moment this story came to be was when I was sat in a Polish cinema watching a trailer that I had no hope of understanding, but the soundtrack to which was Moody Blues’ Nights In White Satin. Now, I don’t know about you, but I often find myself trying to find meaning to, or interpreting the words of songs. The first part of this story is what I pictu...
Published on February 18, 2017 04:05