Part Of My Lived Experience As A Black Woman In The UK | #BlackHistoryMonth

October marks the UK’s Black History Month, and For the last few months, I mulled over what I wanted my contribution to be. I knew I wanted to produce pieces of writing that would be…

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Part Of My Lived Experience As A Black Woman In The UK | #BlackHistoryMonth

October marks the UK’s Black History Month, and For the last few months, I mulled over what I wanted my contribution to be. I knew I wanted to produce pieces of writing that would be…

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S E P T E M B E R .[Journal].

I realised Autumn was here one morning when I woke up to my alarm and didn’t see the sun. Instead, I was met with an inky indigo darkness, with the moon still dancing shyly in…

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The Marseille Travel Diary.

On an icy evening in February, my sister Yossy and I decided categorically that the time had finally come where we, as the mature and fiscally responsible adults we are, would book a family holiday.…

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The Marseille Travel Diary.

On an icy evening in February, my sister Yossy and I decided categorically that the time had finally come where we, as the mature and fiscally responsible adults we are, would book a family holiday.…

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2+7 = 9.

The number nine has been playing on my mind since the first playful rays of warmth peeked through thick grey summer clouds this year. It has been in my dreams as I sleep, in my…

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2+7 = 9.

The number nine has been playing on my mind since the first playful rays of warmth peeked through thick grey summer clouds this year. It has been in my dreams as I sleep, in my…

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The Life Of A Collector | SAMMANHANG .

Shelves lined with books from 1998, a blue China trinket box found in a Lincolnshire charity shop for fifty pence, a turquoise and opal cabochon ring – a gift from a very kind French creator…

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The Life Of A Collector | SAMMANHANG .

Shelves lined with books from 1998, a blue China trinket box found in a Lincolnshire charity shop for fifty pence, a turquoise and opal cabochon ring – a gift from a very kind French creator…

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Twenty-Six Things I’ve Learned In Twenty-Six Years.

27, The words roll off my tongue with an unexpected softness. I say it, again and again, waiting for the numbers to pierce my tongue, waiting for tiny fear embedded shrapnel to scratch my throat,…

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Twenty-Six Things I’ve Learned In Twenty-Six Years.

27, The words roll off my tongue with an unexpected softness. I say it, again and again, waiting for the numbers to pierce my tongue, waiting for tiny fear embedded shrapnel to scratch my throat,…

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