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by Bridie Donaghy


The gun has been fired.

The gates open and me and the other hounds are set free. But I don’t feel much like running, not in a race – which this is. Forward…or backward… I can’t remember which, but a race away from this point, this moment…from here.

Whenever I look at one of those maps in the park and it has one of those handy ‘You are here’ arrows I try to think of something clever and existential to say but I can’t because it’s just a map and I’m usually on my own or late to meet someone.

Besides it’s not always right. I’m only there when I’m there…but I guess even a
broken clock tells the right time twice a day. Anyway.

I have spent quite a lot of time thinking about not being here, about the future
and the past. About alternative universes, about not being in this time or in my body.

And about when I’m really not here…like dead dead (which is like being out out
except you’re just really very dead). And at some point, during the nightmare
that has been this…this…I made peace with being where I am – or rather
accepted it…peace isn’t the right word. So now we’re here, I’d like to just sit here for a bit.

I’m not desperate to push away from everything that’s happened…is
happening. And I don’t want to.

I also didn’t book a table in a pub three months ago, so I’ve got not choice
anyway.

So I’ll just be here, wherever here is now.


Bridie Donaghy (she/her) is a London-based writer, producer and performer. You can find her on twitter @Bridie_Donaghy

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