Remember that Saturday when we were walking in the area where you used to live, round by the river? We'd left the river, and were walking towards the train station, through those new, red brick houses that rose, empty and lifeless, around us. The heels of my office-type wedges were clopping noisily against the rust coloured road, the sound echoing round our heads and bouncing off the walls. I felt like I would wake the emptiness. I felt I would see the curtains twitch and the irritated faces peep out. I felt so damn self conscious. Especially as you weren't making a sound. You never did when you walked.
At least I was still shorter than you in my heels...
About Me
- Blue Bird
- Isn't this what the blogging's for..? I write. I draw. I listen to music... alot. I have an obsession with the colour blue and any type of glass. If Orion or Cassiopeia or The Plough or the Seven Sisters were visible in the night sky I could point them out to you, and probably would, but I couldn't tell you if Jupiter was that bright star on the horizon or if Venus can only be seen in the morning, however much I'd like to be able to. My obsessions spread over to photos too - those small physical snapshots of memories to shake and reawaken feelings in your mind. I try recreate that with my writing, but don't often succeed - it's a harder task than it sounds. I find this is partly because I don't write enough... hence the reason I'm here, speaking my thoughts to a distinct lack of reader. It's all good.
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