The day an artist gave me an expiry date
The worst thing about meeting a sexist man is when he doesn't know he is one.
It was a violent summer storm that gave a taste of the winter ahead. It hit me as I was walking home, from what was one of the most enraging experiences of my first year as a thirty-year-old woman.
September nights were often like that, storms came by surprise after days of splashing in the…