The sensation that someone somewhere was doing something nice for me, such as placing a piece of breaded fish on a pre-heated baking tray in a fan-assisted oven, dissipated the instant the sun left the room; the commonplace order of things reasserted itself with an inhumane brusqueness, and since nothing in my immediate locale belonged to me I felt useless and insipid.

From Pond, Claire Louise Bennett

I wanted to love the world
I thought when all the anxiety slipped away, I’d watch it go, and I’d know precisely
Every increment of its departure
The way ‘getting better’ can be an unfolding
The covers pulled back, the light coming in

From the terribly amazing ‘Picnic’ by Emily Berry