Monday, 5 November 2012

One night, driving through rain - far from things loved and lost, known once but not enough; out of reach and untouchable but imagined and desired though impossible to name or explain: Madness and sanity; clear and confused; fronteir and nowhere, arrival and departure. A mixture of everything and nothing, take it and leave it, hope and hopelessness, stupidity and sense, craving and caving, for and in, forward and backward, here and there and at least twenty more words needed to make this title longer than the post that follows, something promised to be as such at the beginning of the month.

He slept in the car.

When he woke, evening was around them and it was raining as they drove into the hills.

Mist hung motionless among the valleys in the half-light.

He dozed again and it was night.

The cold woke him again and he gazed out of the windows as they climbed – lights shone through the darkness from isolated houses hidden in the forest.

The rain, the dark and the tiredness closed in around him and the lights mirrored his longing for home far away in another time and another place.

They drove on.

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