A “friend” wants to visit you from the States. You haven’t spoken to or seen each other in a while, but you’ve known each other since you were teenagers. You were never particularly close, but you recall enjoying her company. Back in the day, the two of you used to gossip shamelessly and watch cheesy rom-coms during the weekends. You tell your friend that she should come to England to see you. Why not? You’re looking forward to catching up.
You meet her on High Street soon after her bus arrives. You plan to spend a week together, splitting your time between Oxford and London. Your friend marvels at Oxford’s imposing gothic architecture as you make your way down High Street towards Longwall. “What a dream. I bet living here is an absolute dream.” A dream? Not actually. A nightmare? Quite possibly. But the awe-inspired look on your friend’s face tells you she wouldn’t comprehend the weight of your answer, so you tilt your head to the side and ask her, “How was that twelve-hour flight?” Continue reading “Post-Black Encounters”
On Becoming 