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Tags: Friendships

It’s Thursday and I’m in the baby changing facility at Waitrose eating a no-butter flapjack. The air smells like baby wipes and there is a small, bright spotlight that draws out my shadow as I move beneath it. It’s not a bad place to eat in secret while I mentally guess replacement ingredients

Her name was Mrs Martinez, Mrs J. Martinez, and when she said the ‘J’ part, her eyes squinted, just to let you know that when you addressed her, you’d better say it, too. She was my third-grade art teacher. She was chic. With almost every other sentence, she mentioned she was from France, e

I wasn't good at constructions. Orestes used to be amazing. The trap was a sieve borrowed from his grandmother without her knowing about it. A small stake, made of wood he had cut from the floor of the abandoned house right next to his family’s. Two ropes from his mother's laundry. If I remember c

He pedals with bold, heavy movements and when there’s an incline, he swings his legs out and flies, silent and free. I envy him his perfect happiness. I pedal as fast as I can, always behind him, trying to copy. He’s wearing shorts, quite rightly. It’s a balmy summer holiday evening, the air s