Katherine Pollock
Bio
Stories (10/0)
Bleeding Time.
I don’t know what day it is, and if you ask me in the future I won’t remember. I won’t be able to tell you what the weather was like, whether I was cold, or even what I had for breakfast but I will remember the sense of something profound unfolding in front of me. The harder I tried to grasp it, the quicker it melted through my hands.
By Katherine Pollock3 years ago in Fiction
A Letter to my 10 Year Old Self
Before we get into this, I want to start by saying that you are so loved. You get sad sometimes, and right now you don’t always know what home feels like. I know that’s why you don’t always see it, but looking back it’s so clear that everyone you meet sees you glisten. Especially at 10 years old. You will lose a little bit of that as you get older, but it’s still there. If you want it to be.
By Katherine Pollock3 years ago in Humans
The First Step.
These are kinda tight, I thought as I wiggled left and right trying to squeeze into a pair of jeans. The fluorescent white light caught all the bumps in my thighs, whilst the precariously placed mirrors made sure I saw parts only a lover should. A few years ago, this size would have hung off me.
By Katherine Pollock3 years ago in Viva
Home.
The hardest part about coming home was that, even after I had been so sure of myself, so sure that this was what I had wanted; I felt guilty. I wasn’t a vicious or callous person, but I had done a cruel thing and there was no denying it. No matter how hard I tried.
By Katherine Pollock3 years ago in Humans