I miss touching S., having her body near me, the private pillow talk of couples. I’m far from other people these days. I’ve started seeing people on the street I think I recognise from England. I’ve even stopped and looked back at strangers. Sometimes a word comes into my head and I’m sure I see it on a sign or a passing van, or hear some passerby say it.

I’m glued to my phone and my laptop. A million words and images pass me by every day. Occasionally something stays, for a second. Only my crows, when they hop up to me as I walk up the hill, give me some grip on the day. I like to imagine it’s a silent little friendship. You take your scraps of nature where you can in the city.


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