Abaloo

Tracey died on Thursday.

There. I said it. But it makes no more sense written down than it does being repeated a hundred times in my head.

Tracey was a school friend. We were in the same class and we were young together. She was tall and smart and funny and pretty. For a long time we were together almost every day; two people in a large and incredible group of friends who laughed and played and shared endless happy hours in the sun and the rain, never quite feeling the cold. A group of friends who took each other for granted in the best possible way, because there were no horizons.

Establishing a new blog can be a very strange thing. Obviously I’m tickled by the fact you’re reading what I’m writing, and in particularly giddy moments I imagine two, three or more readers, nodding and shaking in all the right places.

So, dear reader, as you have been kind enough to drop by, I feel I should at least go to the trouble of introducing myself with ten things that you (probably) don’t know about me. I’ll begin almost an entire century ago…

Fascination is defined as “the state of being intensely interested (as by awe or terror)”. It’s safe to say that I am fascinated by death. I hate it. I fear it. Yet I think about it. A lot. And I hate that, too. That I am writing this article at all is significant, and entirely at […]