Danae Mercer

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The first time I interviewed Charlotte Roach, I was in my bed, a hot water bottle burning my stomach, exhausted, wanting nothing more than to turn off the phone and the keyboard and close my eyes, my brain, close it all. Instead I called a semi-stranger, a friend’s friend nicknamed Roach. The line kept breaking up. “I’m sorry,” she apologised from the start. “I’m on a train. Can you call me in a… Read More

I’m in Scotland. My brain is exhausted and I’m nodding off even though it’s not yet 5pm. I’ve been counting the sheep outside the window. The journey was painless and painful in the same breath. I love traveling, so being in motion makes me happy regardless. Yet I arrived too early and the town was asleep, meaning I sat shivering in the train station waiting for the sun to creep up and… Read More