I have five things to do, that are too difficult to start. The more I think about them, they are all related and extend past me, but my current reflex is to hunker. When I feel like I have no spare time, forgetting the vancant silence of the morning, wrongness is my uncle.
read thisI have started to listen to the radio on my way home from the night shift. Radio 4 broadcasts the World Service over night and as they ease into regular chatter and news, the Shipping Forcast is presented. It is a good way ramp down to sleep and seed the mind for dreams of the sea.
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The struggle to find a clothesline where one could be stationary and move wet clean cloth into the brisk air, was getting intense, but then, loe and behold, it was where I last saw it. The options reserved for the drying public on the United Kingdom, lack utility.
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Travels by bus are filled with the sensation usually reserved for air travel turbulence. Soon I will board one of the rolling death cuboid, once at my destination, to slather hand gel and sit in the quiet dawn, not knowing if a fatal wisp has begun to unravel inside me.
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Rodney Sanches
