hand and we start to dance to the music.
‘We are the cheesiest of cheese,’ I say, laughing.
‘Yes, yes we are. I think this happened in one of Meg Ryan’s poorer film choices,’ he says. When we stop dancing, the crowd that has gathered actually claps for us. Oh my god, it’s like something from a John Hughes film.
We drive out to a beach and walk amongst the waves, holding hands. I’m just thinking how romantic it all is when I trip and end up splayed in the sand with my dress up around my neck.
‘Jesus, Grace, are you OK?’ Michael asks, hauling me up. I want to say I am but I can’t stop laughing, and I see people staring at me. Then I realise I’m all alone, laughing at nothing. Forever.
- Caitriona O'Malley
Map of The Universe, 2009, cut paper, 65 cm circumference
- stefana mcclure