I am the only one still awake in this city, it feels. I know full well the pain that awaits me.
‘Best to adjust as quickly as you can.’
‘You just have to get through the first few days. It gets easier after that.’
We stand by the canal, leaning against the sterile metal railings separating us from the lethal, freezing water. A heavy truck passes behind us as we stared into our trembling reflections. Then silence.
“It’s past midnight.”
A gilded figure smiles generously on the audience, naked arms outstretched, welcoming. The stage lights up. A door opens…
We were meant to travel.
It courses through our blood,
The need to conquer gravel,
Sand and stone and mud.
You were meant to show me
The tree shimmers at the end of the street. It has very few leaves, though it is the peak of summer. I stare intently at its rich, copper bark, slowly unwinding from the delicate trunk, no thicker than a ballerina’s wrist.
We met after 99 days of not meeting. I let you decide when you would be ready.
I arrived 10 minutes late because I missed a connecting train. You arrived 45 minutes late because you hadn’t realised your only option was the bus due to planned engineering works. I laughed…
What a coincidence — I am too.
I reread your words.
I haven’t read them in a while.
We looked down onto the high street from the first floor window. The rush hour was finally dying down. Pairs of beautiful, young people entered and exited the restaurant below, their confident eyes lit by the orange street lamps.
They told Phel he thought too much. They told Phel he saw too far. They told Phel he sulked too long. They told Phel he loved too little. They told Phel he laughed with cynicism.
He smiled back.
