WROUGHT BY FEVER, SAVED BY SQUASH
Some mornings your mood is grey and drizzly as the cloud-covered vista beyond your bedroom window. It is one of those (thankfully) rare days when you think that if you let go the grip you have on your heart then you’ll start crying for no real reason and you may never stop again. You may stop breathing with the weight of it. You wonder how it feels to smile when everything gets on your nerves and your feet are cold and your self is shriveled and puny and mean. Feel that line between your brows deepen and stick. If you’re...