peachpenumbra@googlemail.com
14/06/10
The last of the sunset fades as we spin, the motion transforming watery sepia into paper-smooth indigo, like a pale gown trailed through clay. Papercut trees line my window, and beyond then nothing marrs my view. I’ve exchanged my new city for the one I grew up in, just for a short while, and though to some this old home is vast enough for a lifetime’s activity, I feel a slow dread building at the thought of a summer here. The bulk of my belongings remain in this bedroom, but my mind is wandering the streets of somewhere else, restless.
