Extract from Twitter

I don’t think my mother wanted to be a cult leader. I’m not sure they wanted her either, but the guru was ready to retire and my mother had charisma and a living room large enough to accommodate everyone. Her boyfriend at the time was a walk-in: a man so previously sad that his original self had left its body and something else had grabbed the wheel. This new thing was driving the car and sleeping with my mom. I have been sad but never have I left my body. My mothеr has been sadder, but it never madе her a poet. I practice my sentences.