An evening of failure and listening to too much Eels takes its toll the morning after.
The light was beautiful this morning, but the air smelt sour.
On the way to school, my son told me about a dream he’d had:
– It was snowing, but it was like 32° and everyone had shorts on.
– How strange. Why did the snow not melt?
– Because it was a dream.
I admire my son’s simplicity as much as my daughter’s complexity. It makes me think of a time when they were younger, colouring at the table. I looked over and watched as son decided which green to colour the grass; daughter stared intently at the landscape on her paper. Then she looked up, threw me a quick smile and said:
– Mum, I was thinking last night. You’re born, you have kids, then you die. Is that really all there is to life?