The end is nigh...

It's morning; and for the umpteenth time we fumble in frosted sunlight. Birds sing and clouds drift by behind curtained windows, unmoved by heavy weight of the days.

I once heard that - no matter our circumstance - we always return to a neutral state of happiness. Is this the state in which u reside? Warm, sun touched lips in thick pollution. The dagenham air feels sticky on my windscreen. 

Branches leave shadows on pavements and it reminds me there are bright skies above. Green fields interrupt my commute, laid fresh and bare and beckoning me to run with abandon. Like the gardens in frating that beg for tree-swings. Washing hanging from lines in a breezeless afternoon. My 'here' is always someone else's 'there'. 


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