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S. Taylor


S. Taylor writes and works in Vancouver in a caffeine-fuelled delirium. If she has any spare time she spends it plotting her getaway.

When I met you, one floor up from the acute psychosis ward, you were wearing a paper shower cap and green pyjamas just like mine. You glared at me through the crowd because you thought I had your hoodie on. But we just had very similar hoodies. Read more

Dispatches

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—Unironic, Cyberspace 

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