Sunday, September 12, 2004

Sleeping alone, key and memory.

1. Getting up and knowing that tonight I will not be sharing a narrow top bunk with fleas.

2. Putting my key in the lock of my own front door after a week away.

3. I love the silence of my flat after a week living in close quarters with the gang. But if I am still for a moment, I can hear their voices and laughter clear as anything.

Spider work, salts and bickering.

  1. Cobwebs gleam where they catch the low-angled sun -- polygonal nets strung from brambles; gauzy dancefloors in the gorse. 2. Tipping th...