Life is a fascinating mix of twists and turns. A great friend is navigating the loss of his father, while another is gearing up to be a father himself.

Happy twenty 24!

-s

It was a pinky blue sundown in Dragør and just after eleven forenoon in Queens.

She was more of a sculpture; chipping away the bits of limestone to highlight her fine silhouette.

Olive branches were swaying through both skies.

-s

The hour was on.

In an empty space with an arched azure wall, she moved closer to the abandoned DVD player and hit the play button.

‘Happy Together’ was her all-time treasured motion picture.

-s

Her smile was legendary on that frigid night, and throughout many more winters her core of ‘normal’ has remained implausibly the same.

This is how she deserves to be recollected.

-s

She’s been a warrior; a true soldier through those past befouled years.

The years of navigating each day with dread and despair behind forbidden bars.

Beyond sealed lips.

-s

She’s been staring at those neglected brutalist behemoths for the last ten minutes in her stone-washed overalls; daydreaming of herself playing air guitar to the Beach Boys. 

It was only a couple of hours before the morning after.

-s

She was intensely paranoid as if she was living in somewhat a video game.

A sip of vodka could usually help her.

-s

At parties, she was the first on the dance floor and the last to leave; she just loved the freedom.

Her perfume was—in any event—overly inviting.

-s

She belonged to a tribe of French Lolitas.

Often felt vigorous when standing in front of her grandmother’s antique French Bacarrat ormolu.

She never believed in the word ‘nostalgia’.

Her name was, also, Vanessa.

– s

She was wearing a white satin suit by Marina Rinaldi. Never enjoyed shopping for clothes – unless they were for someone else. She liked second-hand bookshops and fishing-tackle stores.

She was a woman of substance.

Her name was Vanessa.

-s