Sunday mornings came softly in Oxford. They were so unbearably still.
Stillness didn’t relax her. Stillness didn’t calm her. It irked her: it slowly layered onto itself until it triggered the unrelenting urge to flee. Even though she felt the first pangs of that urge as she lifted herself from bed around dawn, she ignored them. Instead, she thought of the chapter drafts she needed to write, the articles she had to read, and the emails she needed to answer. No, she wouldn’t give into her desire to escape. She’d try to push through. Continue reading “Some Days”
On Becoming 