Late for May is a record about what we worship when no one’s watching. A set of nocturnal vignettes - tracing the fault lines between satire and devotion, grief and dark humour, moral panic and quiet tenderness, intimacy and the creeping anxieties of modern life.

The writing moves between the surreal and the painfully direct. Social media as a deadpan church. Time as a seductive dealer. Angels, sisters, lovers, all caught in the slow pull of longing and regret. And underneath it all, tenderness keeps resurfacing. A stubborn, quiet insistence on hope, right up until the final coda strips everything back to a single 2am admission: the season has moved on. There’s nothing left to face but yourself.