Getting back home

Chucks, Nike, Vans. Slippers, and simple shoes. A grey haired man with blue eyes, biting his nails like a ten year old, all throughout the tube ride. You've got a pretty woman with heels on, swayed a bit under the influence of alchol, sat herself down to sophistication. You've got a guy with a cut … Continue reading Getting back home


I should be…

I should observe the lilies sprouting, I should observe the light sneaking out of the London clouds, or the kind of sounds the birds make in famous city parks. Instead of untangling the lock from the inside of my brain, I should be looking out.