Snowflake

by Louise Nealon

Nights out mean drinking and drinking is like taking a holiday from my head. I welcome the oblivion it brings. The buzz. When I black out, I don’t dream. I wake up hungover, but a hangover is predictable. I know how I’ll feel. Fragile, but also myself. A nice, easy, child-like version of myself who thinks a glass of water is the most miraculous thing on earth.

‘People have such a narrow view of what they consider to be reality. We only ever catch a glimpse of our shared imagination in art or music.’

Browsing in a bookshop is a lot like collecting shells on a beach on a really good day. I want all of them. I