Day after day, monotony; identical events again and again, and we sit through this tedium daily. We’re born an empty vessel for ennui and our lives fill us up, slowly; drop by tiresome drop, all waking hours, a veritable Chinese water torture of life. But in dreams we find release. Remembering things long lost, […]Read more "In Dreams"
The image of them parting, I see from afar; The shuffled, awkward embrace that lingers, over what may have been. He whispers something she doesn’t quite catch, ‘Did she really hear that correctly?’ She asks him to repeat, heart fluttering, but his fears overcome him and he repeats something different, something positively bland, something nice; nice […]Read more "On Leaving"
A name – A name to last for years, etched into my mind, as a dedication in gleaming and pure Parian marble. An obelisk to your memory dominating the landscape of my thoughts; you hang over me like the Word; The Word that was there in the beginning, and will be there at the end; eternally part […]Read more "A name"
London, the city where I live, is the third most popular tourist destination in the world with over 18 million people coming to visit in 2015 alone. Any Londoner can tell you about the tourists, the reams and reams of people who flood the city(and its public transport systems!), every year, but few take the […]Read more "London"
One day he sat on the train, thinking. His commute, being two hours long, afforded him this luxury. He often thought about his life. He should be happy: He had a good education, Oxbridge; a good job, finance; a large home, detached; a loving family, one son and two beautiful daughters, and yet something was […]Read more "The Rat Race"
“The Southern Wind is always slow”, they say, “slow to bring us warmth, slow to drive out the frost.” “He’s unreliable too”, another remarks, “never consistent in arriving, never the same strength, always hard to predict; stays too long one year, goes too quickly the next.” “If only he were like his brothers” they jeer, […]Read more "Zephyros"
He sits and muses over her, his inspiration. She sees him not – not as he’d wish; but he sees her, immortalises her with words to last for years; words she will never read, words she never hears. She goes about her business, gliding by with gossamer grace, Golden, bright, beautiful she passes; she […]Read more "Echoes"