Five o'clock in the morning.
The sun peeps through the clouds
blue skies; pink-tinted
Silence.
Speeding along the motorway.
It's quiet at this time of day.
Half past six in the morning.
People pass through the crowds
black coffee; tear-stained
Goodbye.
Four hundred pills: one a day
It keeps malaria at bay.
I don't know what else to say.
Where are you going?
ReplyDeleteAt least I assmume you're going somewhere, from the comsumption of malaria tablets? Unless it's a friend going.
ReplyDeleteGoing
going
gone....
I'm not the one who's gone; I'm the one left behind.
ReplyDeleteSix thousand miles is very far...
You better not be bloody going ;)
ReplyDeleteAlso, lovely blogtheme.
Also, hugs.
well, I have decided that since you are thinking about leaving, and since you and Andy seem to keep missing each other online, you need to send me your email address so we can talk. ;) I've been thinking about you and our time in the UK lately, and I kinda miss you. ;) so if you ever feel up for talking, send me a line.
ReplyDelete