Sunday, August 27
Saturday, August 26
Sunday, August 20
John
We hear him answering the nurse's questions behind the hospital curtain. He lives in a hostel, he doesn't have a partner. He has a brother but he doesn't want him to see him 'like this'. He doesn't know his number anyway. His body is trying to get rid of something he's put inside it. He's been here before.
Friday, August 18
Road closed
I bomb down tiny country lanes as the sun gathers strength, hoping they'll bring me back out to the main road. A white van follows, choosing to see me as someone who knows.
Saturday, August 12
Listening to the wind sighing
The whole bush shudders, as if trying to get rid of a sour memory. The clouds hurry on, not wanting to get involved.
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