Author: Lottie Thompson

  I have a friend who lost her father when she was young who has always told me that her favourite book is Grief is a Thing With Feathers. I have never felt the need to read it—I have, luckily, never lost anyone close to me, anyone who has brought grief, with its feathers, to […]

The first time I arrived in Vienna, I was eight, ginger, and unimpressed. It was March, and I’d just been uprooted for the first (but certainly not the last) time. My father’s previous employment had meant that I’d spent the first eight years of my life in one house in Brussels. It never reall

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