For Halloween this year, let's pretend.
I'll pretend that I'm not trying to stay afloat. That my dreams are aligned with the steps I take when I am awake. That I am not in love with trails of written words from an insomniac seeking refuge from bitter nights.
We're all so good at covering ourselves. Layer by layer we are swathed in paper-mache shells that crumble to the touch; a frail armour in which our beliefs are skilfully hemmed into.
So between the costumed comic and the person who wears her smile like haggard shoes, can you spot the bigger fool?
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