She squirms against my body with an eagerness that belittles the character I’d sketched and starts pulling back slightly, not disengaging but subtly leading, so I push her up against the wall. It’s exciting and empowering and only a little staged. I work my hands over her hips, looking for zen in the curves. The awareness of my self detaches into third person with disquieting swiftness and I close my eyes, imagining I’m still me in this moment and not just an arbiter of impulses. From behind my lids I watch everything I’m doing and look for something more.
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.