Now you’re really living

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?


daor eht fo dne eht ta nam eht

Walking to work today up a long hill beside dual carriageways; in the distance a man walks backwards.

I was late, he was slow; I gained on him.

He had handsome almond eyes – hollow as a cyborg’s – that shifted restlessly around, and when his head turned to check his trajectory, I noticed grey in the dark curls falling from where they were gathered by a scarlet Royal Mail rubber band.

He was taking notes, scribbling feverishly in a reporter’s notepad.  It made sense now.

‘Hurry up’ I said as I passed.

He smiled.

‘Cut off is today’, I whispered to his back.


My second assignment is submitted and I am SO GLAD.