Small Stones July 18-21

July 18

Night falls early on a cool grey day. Outside the rain sweeps across the garden, the grass lush and green. Only a few flowers betray evidence of autumn.

July 19

I listen to words of contrition on the radio; once mighty men with great power trying to summon up humility and regret for the occasion, denying knowledge or responsibility. Last year the banks, this year the media, next year…..

July 20

I am busy doing nothing. I sit down and try to concentrate, prioritise on what needs to be done. Everything must be done now and yet everything can wait.

July 21

A veil of dust, smudges and pollen is lifted. A clean pair of glasses makes the world a brighter place.


Small Stones July 9-13

July 9

Water falls over my body, washing away the dust and pollen of the summer which irritates my skin. I fumble for the shampoo, knocking over several other bottles in the process. The shampoo has a rich fresh smell. I squeeze a small amount into my hand, conscious of the fact that there is little hair to wash but enjoying the luxurious feel.

July 10

The sky is dark and black, but bright golden evening sunlight still falls on the garden. A binary rainbow emerges, the first bursting with colour emerges from the trees whilst the second has a softer palette.

July 11

The gym is busy tonight; each person in their own little world pedalling, rowing and pumping iron to a Techno soundtrack oblivious to the beautiful setting sun outside.

July 12

There is so much to do but I feel weary and overwhelmed by each new task. I close my eyes but now I see is a whirl of blinding lights. I sit for a while, my head spinning around with ideas, problems and fatigue.  Outside the world speeds on without me.

July 13

I am holding marbles in my hand. Not the smooth glass variety for children but black pieces of racing tyre discarded on the track. Unlike a road tyre, it is tacky to the touch, ugly and misshapen. like blu-tac with no give.

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