The body is aching and tired but the brain is wired and whirring, alive and flickering with too much caffeine and staying up all night to get a story written. It was finished at six in the morning, just as the morning light began to peek in through the blinds, so I left the self-imposed prison of my room and escaped into the light of the early morning.
The smell of eucalyptus and soil, heavy in the air. Traffic gearing up along the main road. Birdsong. Hot-air balloons. floating distantly on the horizon. On the top of the bridge my tummy begins to cry out for food - home, I go. I promise myself that I'll do this again, but properly, very soon.
SLEEP.
No comments:
Post a Comment