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The Mending Game

Diriye Osman

Beautiful reader,

Come inside and make yourself comfortable. Would you like some wine or whiskey? I'm always partial to a likkle Japanese whiskey myself, but maybe you fancy some mango rum with a rub of lemon round the rim? Whatever suits you will be sorted.

Light the incense, reader, and I'll grab the drinks. We'll open all the windows wide and marvel at the stars on this sticky summer night.

Reader, have you mended your self, and if so, how? How did you stitch yourself back together?

I mended myself, beloved reader. It was challenging and heartbreaking, but a hundred percent worth it. I sewed my split seams back together because I was dying, reader, and no-one could save me.

I was dying, reader, and no-one knew how to save me, so I decided to rescue myself again and again, until I had invented my own secret lexicon for how to live.

You can die a thousand deaths in this lifetime, reader. Did you know that?

You can die a thousand agonising deaths and decay into a living ruin.

I refused to become a ruin.

You're probably wondering why I'm telling you all this, beautiful reader.

Sharing stories is an act of giving testimony and bearing witness. Sharing stories is an act of survival and soulwork. Sharing stories is an elemental hymn to the human imagination.

So let us sip these drinks, the warm night air reminding us of other, more tropical islands like Seychelles or St. Lucia, and let us dream together in stories.

With love,



Song to uplift the spirits: 'By Your Side' by SADE (COTTONBELLY REMIX).


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