I grab my towel before turning off the shower and make fully one sweep before realising I’m not dry. There’ve been a lot of these off key incidents lately, miniature self-sabotages that must surely be a result of absent mindedness if not just metaphysically pimpled manifestations of a clenched inner discord. Clumsy volcanos erupting in stubbed toes and throes of heroic social misconduct through semiotic mistranslation. The whole thing reeks of a vaudeville vortex with no comedic payoff. So I turn off the shower and shiver, waiting for the air to dry me like some kind of jerky.
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.