- Writing - vignettes
- Previous - 09. Hill
How could I possibly write? Too much has happened, seismic shifts and fresh planets in orbit, sparkling water from untapped wells, forgotten pools to drink from. I was so shudderingly parched that I grew used to the feeling. Now enlivened and electric, alive, enchanted. But, cool the melodrama; in many ways I’m exactly the same. More a process of elimination than addition. Casting off ill-conceived stories, vanities, calcified postures and fire-choking concessions. Bellows have revived the fast-failing ember to a newly dancing flame. Now it needs fuel. Don’t let it fade again.
- Next - 11. Balcony