walking home along the seafront, the air like bated breath
the sea is beyond blue, today – it’s the colour of light, and so still that all sense of space is suspended. The barest ripple of a wave breaks the illusion of the surface
and I am reminded of the halcyon days, when the sea is so still that kingfishers can settle on the shore to lay their eggs. The perfect blue of these summer evenings, after relentless months of rain; I am glad to see it one more time, at least, before I leave.
My books are packed away in boxes, my flat swept bare and clean; and somewhere in my stories – across seas, across seasons – Ceyx and Alcyone meet again, to nest.