Save Livejournal Month, Day 9: Spoken

Image by Stella Wisdom

With the theatre’s lights back on, I spotted my boyfriend at the back with a brasilian friend: they had arrived just in time to hear me read.

I said goodbye to the poet Fergus Evans – the Awards’ project manager – and decamped to a pub next door.

Five pints in hand, conversation bloomed over literary nights – long gone and in our future – and the impossibility of owning a home in London (that inescapable topic.) I promised them I’d wear contact lenses if I ever did a reading again; I promised myself I’d read all of my work aloud from now on.