Feb 27
3 min read
A Place To Rest And Write
A Little Holiday in Rural Ireland
I can stare into the sun, via its image fully reflected on the side of the window of the parked car. Each ray, a mini-version of the real thing. So strong are these virtual beams that when I look down again to write, my sight is blotted by flickering dotted black spots. I blink to clear and note my thoughts.
