Mine was the last girl to come out. I was so nervous I couldn’t look at her face. She was wearing this blue sequined gown with a split that ran from the swell of her calves to the bottom of my imagination. I was wearing a borrowed three piece suit that itched my skin and clung to me with adolescent awkwardness. She took my hand, leading me onto the dance floor and we shifted in place while Some Kind of Blue slunk around the hall. I could feel her lips brushing against my ear as she whispered to me.
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.