Maeve has things.

She has a silver chromatic manicure. She has a pair of Maison Margiela Tabis and white polka-dot capris. She has a favourite spot on the sofa and a poster of Natalie Portman and a blister on her left ankle. She has a taxidermied squirrel and a newspaper from the day she was born - it was a big day for fishermen local to Iceland and for the stock market bros.

Maeve has a starfish postcard and a San Diego snowglobe. She has a vintage track jacket and a fountain pen. She has a Nick Cave cassette and a charm bracelet and an appointment at the dentists the Tuesday after next.

She often has a feeling that everything is going to go terribly wrong.

Maeve has pointelle underwear and a tartan crossbody sling bag. She has a velvet scrunchie and honeysuckle handcream. Maeve’s father has a cream 1980 Mercedes-benz SL in the driveway. It is not exactly hers but she can see it from her bedroom window and it could maybe one day be one of her things. Maeve has a lazy eye that the eye doctor tried and failed to correct with an eye patch when she was a little girl. She has a feeling that she gets when she knows that someone is noticing it. A thing that feels like a lump of osminium in the bottom of her stomach. Her mother pats her head and tells her that is just one of those things. We all have our things.

Maeve has a collection of bone china. Teacups and saucers. She has a scrapbook full of magazine clippings and a new blue passport. She has an alarm clock with a dandelion on it and a jar of sauerkraut. She does not like waking up and she does not like sauerkraut but she thinks that it is normal to not get along with all of her things.

Maeve has a boyfriend called Boy. He has brown hair and long limbs. He has a CD player and a crease between his eyebrows. He thinks that Maeve’s things are silly. He pats her head just like her mother does and tries not to think about her things. If he thinks too hard about her things he will hate her. He hated his last girlfriend because of her things. Maeve says that he is just a Boy and that he isn’t supposed to understand anyway. Maeve’s things do not feel silly to her.

Maeve has faint white lines on the tops of her thighs. Her boyfriend can only see them by lamp-light when she is lying on her side in just a tshirt. Usually after she has given him a handjob or he has asked her what she thinks about open relationships or they are having an argument about Foucault or climate change or Elon Musk. Boy often tells Maeve that her things make him sad. Maeve often says that she is very incredibly sorry.

She often has a feeling that everything is going to go terribly wrong.

Maeve has a best friend called Love. She has red hair and she is soft and she is lovely. Love has a library card and a rabbit tattoo and a stripy shirt and a lilt to her voice. Maeve has a feeling that she gets when she is with Love. It is a feeling that she can only see by lamplight. Like her faint white lines. It is a feeling that is soft and lovely. A feeling like wanting to be as close as possible. Maeve has a thing where she wants to lie down on the pavement when Love has walked past. A thing that would let her flesh melt into the gravel if it could.

Maeve often has a feeling that everything is going to go terribly wrong.

Isobel Slocombe lives between Bristol and Sheffield. Her work moves through criticism, confession, and digital debris.

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