At the moment live in a crappy apartment in Brighton. This is the view from the chair I sit in to sit.
I have seven things on my to-do list that would seem more important than writing a post about a view of telephone wires and a building under construction.
I felt it important to tell you, though, that I barely see the telephone pole for the mist. Because the mist is the same mist that hid the grey waves in the days when I lived at the beach, when the soft edge of the Atlantic was outside my door, purring in that same way a cat will purr softly in your lap, then wake in a flutter of hissing and claws, drawing blood and tearing the silence off an ordinary dawn.
Yes, feeling safe and alive pushed itself to number one on my to-do list again today, over emails for business and bookkeeping tasks.