Jun. 28th, 2017

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I spent the better part of my day as a fox. Last night I even slept as a fox, a rare indulgence outside the bedroom I shared with Will. I laid with my soft white paws tucked beneath my chin, a thick pillow serving as my bed. I woke on my back, paws in the air, and I watched my tail swish slowly before impulse drove me to try and catch it. ...I failed. Failing wasn't so bad though.

After that I ran in circles until my stomach growled, but with no one to cook for me, I was forced to return to my fae self. I can't explain it, but there's something about that form that's just... Freeing. Everything in my head slows down, and the world becomes a far calmer place, no matter how manic the fox gets.

Later I found myself back at the pub, chatting with someone new. He was beautiful, his voice like warm caramel, but when he leaned in to test the waters, I found myself drawing away.

We split the tab. I took an uber home.

He would have tasted so sweet, I know it, but my mind goes back to Will, and I hesitate. I was wrong to go. I was wrong to leave him like that. ...It would have been just as wrong to stay though. So I hang in a strange sort of limbo, staring at my phone and wondering if I should ring him. Instead I go out and buy a postcard and write him a letter. I usually have so many words, but here and now, none seem right.

New York is beautiful, but the humidity is rotten.
I hope you're not angry. 
I miss you and I hope you're well. I don't know when I'll return to London.
Soon, I'm sure.
All My Love,

The stamp has a tiny flag on it, caught in some perpetual breeze. Not trusting myself to remember in the morning, I head back out and drop it into the nearest post box before dipping into a place that's open all night and serves breakfast around the clock. I eat pankcakes until I'm certain I can eat no more, before dragging myself home and crawling into bed.

I shift back into the fox, it's easier to sleep this way, especially when I'm alone.


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Finlay Alexander Flynn

August 2017

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