PRINT ZINE PDF FINAL

ana sofia navia





for my dad



i used to stay up late on school nights. i waited for him. for the steps i had memorised, different to those of my mum and sister. he would come into my room when the clock hit midnight, his scent filling the room, his kiss striking my cheek like an arrow.

i faked being asleep, perhaps i should have stayed up longer.



the ocean swallowed him the next summer and i took the longest shower of my short 14 years of life.

i wanted it to last longer. perhaps that way, i wouldn’t have to go to bed early, alone, the darkness and i. the salt flushed down the drain.



i wish everything had been slower. the flight home, his casket under my feet. my mum’s face getting heavier. his memory fading but still blaming me five years later.