“Too many nights now I’ve slipped out of bed, disturbed by either a string of words, a fizzing sensation deep within me, like electricity, or an approaching precipice. Often when the Moon is full, my life expands with it. Something within me expands with it. This is the precipice I continue noticing, something breathing me, expanding me. I cannot sleep when I notice this precipice approach. It’s too exciting. Soon, I know that I will be free-diving off the edge of some cliff again, and that if I sleep, my dreams will be peppered with purple grass and riverbeds, the owl and the pussycat, their mossy boat, runaway cutlery, beautiful faces.” - Sophie Ward