Morning

Alone in the conservatory, house full of people, none yet risen, is the feel of Portrush in the summer. Half an hour’s serenity before sixteen hours of clatter and movement. For now, all is still and quiet, but behind the silence is a mix tape soundtrack of the day wakening. Back door ajar, I hear … Continue reading Morning

Between

Between. Not here, not there, not anywhere. That’s what I feel like when I travel, especially when I travel alone, which is how it is mostly these days. In transit I am someone else; I am subtly different. I am an extension of my bags, a parcel of possibility. The responsibility for getting ‘there’ is outside … Continue reading Between