Thursday 18 March 2021

The wind blows cold from the east, howling down Blues Street driving the rain sideways as I step down to the pavement from the 154X. It's another day in the 61 years of life and things.

The wheel turns and sometimes the purpose and joy of it all is hidden by the monotony and silence. I have a sinking sense of abandonment, with it comes a deep loneliness and the wanting of close, caring companionship. These emotions feel heavy and sink low in my heart. The day is grey, wet and Autumn looks to be turning to winter far too soon. My mood reflects the weather.

 A little voice inside me tells me that there is something better over the horizon. True love and warmer days. That little voice has been whispering to me whenever I feel low all my life. I am so thankful for it.

School kids mill around the train station entrance. They annoy me the way they seem so oblivious to pedestrians trying to get on their way. They seem to be endlessly in the way. They exist in a different time signature to me.

 The revolving door of the office block I work in is like a metaphor for my current life. The elevator bings and speeds me to a world of office politics and endless deadlines. Tomorrow is Friday, and the world always looks brighter on a Friday.

Ó     Copyright Craig Buller 2021. All rights reserved.

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