Sebulon

By sebrose

Like a bird ...

... on the wire
Like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free

It’s been light for a while, when I get off the N73 at Capper Street. The walk to the flat is peaceful, pastel dawn colours, birds flapping languorously. Bed awaits.

I tidy the flat and head for Kings Cross. It’s lunchtime, so I sit in the sun and eat a veggie kebab. I’m feeling ok, but will feel even better asleep on a five hour train journey.

The aircon in my carriage is broken. They give us water to compensate, but it’s not enough. I decamp to a cooler carriage and doze my way to Edinburgh.

I get home before 7. Angus is gone. Claire is looking healthy and happy. Mike L rocks up, from Norway via Dunfermline. We eat. We talk. Night falls.

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