Phosphorescence

by Julia Baird

I have long savoured the prospect of letting myself go. It’s just the most delicious concept: a balloon wafting into the ether, a raft flowing smoothly with the current. One day, I have imagined, I will find myself wandering along the street, either cheerfully unkempt with hair askew, or impossibly fabulous, wearing a curious assortment of clothes — perhaps a vintage frock with dapper heels — that meet just my liking. I might bump into an old acquaintance who will regard me with confusion. ‘Oh,’ I’ll exclaim, with an easy laugh, and, touching her arm lightly, I’ll say, ‘I thought you might have known. I’ve let myself go!’ Then I’ll saunter off, dangerously liberated, feeling envious eyes on my back — having reached, finally, the age when you can reject rejection.

Okh man! I love this so much!!!