I’m driving home from a friend’s house along dark, unlit country roads. The darkness is like a thick blanket; enveloping, suffocating somehow. It’s a clear night and the stars are splayed out above like a scattered spread of pinpricks in…
View Post
I’ve been doing three things religiously over the last couple of weeks – writing in my gratitude journal in the morning and evening, writing in my ‘one line a day’ journal, and writing ‘morning pages’ (there is a good article…
View Post
I’m at the dinner table in a hotel and the people I’m with are chatting about their husbands and families; reflecting on how things might be going back home whilst they are away. My workmate is describing how her husband…
View Post
During my English A Level, I remember a lesson about abstract nouns. Our teacher explained to us that they are things you cannot touch or sense, they have no physical existence. “Like democracy, bravery or sadness,” she said. She was…
View Post
The scent of woodsmoke fills the room as I sit here, in this place where I currently am. The sense of ‘home’ is transitory (confusing to everyone – including me – when people ask where I am). In these difficult…
View Post