Walking alone along the leaf-thickened towpath he remembered the time he'd told her all he felt, releasing years of feelings shut up by the days and their leering allure. Told and told.
He said the words now, walking the leaf-thickened towpath. Because he'd not said them before.
He said the words now, walking the leaf-thickened towpath. Because he'd not said them before.
November 10, 2025 at 10:03 PM
Walking alone along the leaf-thickened towpath he remembered the time he'd told her all he felt, releasing years of feelings shut up by the days and their leering allure. Told and told.
He said the words now, walking the leaf-thickened towpath. Because he'd not said them before.
He said the words now, walking the leaf-thickened towpath. Because he'd not said them before.
In the shower first, he smiled as he wrote 'I love you' across the steamed-up door, the dripping water forming a heart-shaped 'v'.
But she was up late that morning and had no time for washing. Or reading.
But she was up late that morning and had no time for washing. Or reading.
November 10, 2025 at 9:54 PM
In the shower first, he smiled as he wrote 'I love you' across the steamed-up door, the dripping water forming a heart-shaped 'v'.
But she was up late that morning and had no time for washing. Or reading.
But she was up late that morning and had no time for washing. Or reading.
That rare, brief moment when you suddenly feel you don't want to be anyone else, be anywhere else, be doing anything else, have lived anything else, whatever it has been. Not joy, not shared, but a solitary peace as the river drifts downstream and leaves fall gently to the ground.
November 7, 2025 at 10:51 PM
That rare, brief moment when you suddenly feel you don't want to be anyone else, be anywhere else, be doing anything else, have lived anything else, whatever it has been. Not joy, not shared, but a solitary peace as the river drifts downstream and leaves fall gently to the ground.
Each year it came to touch him in the gloom - his and that of the fading light. The magic time, late autumn afternoon, children walking slowly home from school, kicking damp leaves, the air scented with lately fallen fruit, winter still deep underground. Touched him not with hope, but with love.
November 5, 2025 at 10:02 PM
Each year it came to touch him in the gloom - his and that of the fading light. The magic time, late autumn afternoon, children walking slowly home from school, kicking damp leaves, the air scented with lately fallen fruit, winter still deep underground. Touched him not with hope, but with love.
November 1965: part two
'Why do you need a reason', the priest had asked him. Edward wondered. Didn't everyone? Did anyone?
He walked past the ivied gravestones. People. They were great. He often loved them. Badly, admittedly. But they weren't enough. That was the reason.
'Why do you need a reason', the priest had asked him. Edward wondered. Didn't everyone? Did anyone?
He walked past the ivied gravestones. People. They were great. He often loved them. Badly, admittedly. But they weren't enough. That was the reason.
November 3, 2025 at 9:30 PM
November 1965: part two
'Why do you need a reason', the priest had asked him. Edward wondered. Didn't everyone? Did anyone?
He walked past the ivied gravestones. People. They were great. He often loved them. Badly, admittedly. But they weren't enough. That was the reason.
'Why do you need a reason', the priest had asked him. Edward wondered. Didn't everyone? Did anyone?
He walked past the ivied gravestones. People. They were great. He often loved them. Badly, admittedly. But they weren't enough. That was the reason.
November 1965: part one
Today, after the service, he'd asked the priest for a reason. The priest assumed he meant a reason for belief, but Edward wasn't that ambitious.
'Why do you need a reason?' the priest asked.
'Because', Edward replied.
'Because?'
'Because.'
Today, after the service, he'd asked the priest for a reason. The priest assumed he meant a reason for belief, but Edward wasn't that ambitious.
'Why do you need a reason?' the priest asked.
'Because', Edward replied.
'Because?'
'Because.'
November 2, 2025 at 9:30 PM
November 1965: part one
Today, after the service, he'd asked the priest for a reason. The priest assumed he meant a reason for belief, but Edward wasn't that ambitious.
'Why do you need a reason?' the priest asked.
'Because', Edward replied.
'Because?'
'Because.'
Today, after the service, he'd asked the priest for a reason. The priest assumed he meant a reason for belief, but Edward wasn't that ambitious.
'Why do you need a reason?' the priest asked.
'Because', Edward replied.
'Because?'
'Because.'
Every morning, as he kicked at the autumn leaves, he decided to change.
But change from what? Change to what?
But change from what? Change to what?
October 31, 2025 at 10:46 PM
Every morning, as he kicked at the autumn leaves, he decided to change.
But change from what? Change to what?
But change from what? Change to what?
Walking through the wood, she came across an acquaintance crying on a bench. She asked to join her, eventually asking what her tears were for. Oh you know, came the reply, the crying things. She nodded. And under a bouquet of autumn sun and shade they sat. Doing the crying thing.
October 24, 2025 at 6:44 PM
Walking through the wood, she came across an acquaintance crying on a bench. She asked to join her, eventually asking what her tears were for. Oh you know, came the reply, the crying things. She nodded. And under a bouquet of autumn sun and shade they sat. Doing the crying thing.
I know you have escaped me. But have you escaped? I am escaped, but is still too much other left? Did it follow you as you ran? So fast. You always ran so fast. Have you escaped? I don't know if I hope you have. But I wish you hadn't escaped me.
October 23, 2025 at 9:59 PM
I know you have escaped me. But have you escaped? I am escaped, but is still too much other left? Did it follow you as you ran? So fast. You always ran so fast. Have you escaped? I don't know if I hope you have. But I wish you hadn't escaped me.
Autumn sun after autumn rain, the leaves damp, the air still cool.
Autumn dusk after autumn day, the swans chewing feathers on the gentle canal.
Autumn love after autumn fear, curled at home alone, not knowing why.
Autumn dusk after autumn day, the swans chewing feathers on the gentle canal.
Autumn love after autumn fear, curled at home alone, not knowing why.
October 21, 2025 at 9:49 PM
Autumn sun after autumn rain, the leaves damp, the air still cool.
Autumn dusk after autumn day, the swans chewing feathers on the gentle canal.
Autumn love after autumn fear, curled at home alone, not knowing why.
Autumn dusk after autumn day, the swans chewing feathers on the gentle canal.
Autumn love after autumn fear, curled at home alone, not knowing why.
When did our days start slipping away? When did they become my days and your days? Until they were just days belonging to neither of us, same days, packed neatly in weeks, and months. And then years.
Until they returned. Not present days, but those long past days. Returning every day.
Until they returned. Not present days, but those long past days. Returning every day.
October 19, 2025 at 7:39 PM
When did our days start slipping away? When did they become my days and your days? Until they were just days belonging to neither of us, same days, packed neatly in weeks, and months. And then years.
Until they returned. Not present days, but those long past days. Returning every day.
Until they returned. Not present days, but those long past days. Returning every day.
Getting up in the morning. He'd always been rubbish at it and age had withered him. What a choice. Curling your toes, cuddling your chin under the warm, affectionate duvet; or raising your carcass to face another catalogue of unwanted tasks. A wonder he had ever got up.
October 17, 2025 at 8:19 PM
Getting up in the morning. He'd always been rubbish at it and age had withered him. What a choice. Curling your toes, cuddling your chin under the warm, affectionate duvet; or raising your carcass to face another catalogue of unwanted tasks. A wonder he had ever got up.
He found himself difficult. Forever changing his mind, his obsessions stripping pleasure like wallpaper. He was especially moody in the mornings, the sun too low to lighten his darkened room. And then there were his pleasures. Like river crossings, soon doubling back.
October 14, 2025 at 9:22 PM
He found himself difficult. Forever changing his mind, his obsessions stripping pleasure like wallpaper. He was especially moody in the mornings, the sun too low to lighten his darkened room. And then there were his pleasures. Like river crossings, soon doubling back.
There are probably only about four things that really matter. Really, really matter. But what are they? Not the things that matter today; or yesterday; and certainly not tomorrow.
But what are they? What are they?
But what are they? What are they?
October 12, 2025 at 9:29 PM
There are probably only about four things that really matter. Really, really matter. But what are they? Not the things that matter today; or yesterday; and certainly not tomorrow.
But what are they? What are they?
But what are they? What are they?
Love wasn't complex, mystical, elusive. It was banal, mundane, obvious, like air - hot air, cold air.
Yet this was its beauty. It was inevitable, always on the tips of our tongues, the thing you wanted to shout late at night when there was no-one left to listen. I love.
Yet this was its beauty. It was inevitable, always on the tips of our tongues, the thing you wanted to shout late at night when there was no-one left to listen. I love.
October 11, 2025 at 9:57 PM
Love wasn't complex, mystical, elusive. It was banal, mundane, obvious, like air - hot air, cold air.
Yet this was its beauty. It was inevitable, always on the tips of our tongues, the thing you wanted to shout late at night when there was no-one left to listen. I love.
Yet this was its beauty. It was inevitable, always on the tips of our tongues, the thing you wanted to shout late at night when there was no-one left to listen. I love.
Now it was over, it was as if for every minute, hour, day, week, year he had neglected their relationship, he would have to suffer an equal measure the other side. Each minute demanded its reciprocal. A quid pro quo; but one where neglect was no match for loss.
September 30, 2025 at 8:13 PM
Now it was over, it was as if for every minute, hour, day, week, year he had neglected their relationship, he would have to suffer an equal measure the other side. Each minute demanded its reciprocal. A quid pro quo; but one where neglect was no match for loss.
Things seemed to be reversing. Still asleep, he used to think he'd got up and got on with the day. Now, walking through the park to work, he'd started to think that he wasn't up at all, but was still asleep. He blinked against the fear, morning closing in to shut his eyes.
September 29, 2025 at 9:24 PM
Things seemed to be reversing. Still asleep, he used to think he'd got up and got on with the day. Now, walking through the park to work, he'd started to think that he wasn't up at all, but was still asleep. He blinked against the fear, morning closing in to shut his eyes.
No-one had warned him loneliness wasn't just about being alone. He had thought he could handle it if he still loved the things he'd always loved, things before her, things during. But slowly they were deserting him, as if she was coming back unseen to take them away one by one.
September 28, 2025 at 7:35 PM
No-one had warned him loneliness wasn't just about being alone. He had thought he could handle it if he still loved the things he'd always loved, things before her, things during. But slowly they were deserting him, as if she was coming back unseen to take them away one by one.
She took the overnight sleeper to Inverness.
And she cried.
She drove through autumn to Cornwall best.
And she cried.
She took a late flight to Berlin West.
And she cried.
He said it would last forever.
He lied.
And she cried.
She drove through autumn to Cornwall best.
And she cried.
She took a late flight to Berlin West.
And she cried.
He said it would last forever.
He lied.
September 27, 2025 at 7:34 PM
She took the overnight sleeper to Inverness.
And she cried.
She drove through autumn to Cornwall best.
And she cried.
She took a late flight to Berlin West.
And she cried.
He said it would last forever.
He lied.
And she cried.
She drove through autumn to Cornwall best.
And she cried.
She took a late flight to Berlin West.
And she cried.
He said it would last forever.
He lied.
Places tried their best. It wasn't their fault they reminded him of her. They put on a good show in the sliding September light, the orchard scented by fallen apples, hope hiding nervously in the woods. But it was no good. Places made him unhappy. They had no chance against people.
September 26, 2025 at 8:29 PM
Places tried their best. It wasn't their fault they reminded him of her. They put on a good show in the sliding September light, the orchard scented by fallen apples, hope hiding nervously in the woods. But it was no good. Places made him unhappy. They had no chance against people.
It had been a hard day. The things that were going to be hard had been hard. The things that were easy had been hard. The unexpected things had been especially hard. But it was okay if he could collapse into her arms as the sun set.
But their sun had already set.
But their sun had already set.
September 24, 2025 at 10:22 PM
It had been a hard day. The things that were going to be hard had been hard. The things that were easy had been hard. The unexpected things had been especially hard. But it was okay if he could collapse into her arms as the sun set.
But their sun had already set.
But their sun had already set.
On his Sunday morning run he passed two young boys dressed as Batman and Robin and a dog that would not move whatever its owner said, and a neighbour who smiled from so far away. It was just the rest that was the problem. Just the rest.
September 22, 2025 at 9:06 PM
On his Sunday morning run he passed two young boys dressed as Batman and Robin and a dog that would not move whatever its owner said, and a neighbour who smiled from so far away. It was just the rest that was the problem. Just the rest.
His happiness reminded him of how often he was unhappy. Like the brief lifting of pain or the sight of a smile rarely seen. Happiness fought its corner well, a butterfly in the rain. But was there a guarantee it would come again?
September 21, 2025 at 8:58 PM
His happiness reminded him of how often he was unhappy. Like the brief lifting of pain or the sight of a smile rarely seen. Happiness fought its corner well, a butterfly in the rain. But was there a guarantee it would come again?
Summer leant like a lover towards autumn, and autumn nervously took its hand, eyes anxiously looking back. But summer was a fickle lover and autumn knew sadness, the fall of leaves, the drawing in of the day; and the loneliness that is lovely as it breaks your heart.
September 20, 2025 at 8:52 PM
Summer leant like a lover towards autumn, and autumn nervously took its hand, eyes anxiously looking back. But summer was a fickle lover and autumn knew sadness, the fall of leaves, the drawing in of the day; and the loneliness that is lovely as it breaks your heart.
He'd always hated getting up. As a boy, his mother would say to him: 'once you're up, you won't think about bed again'. But she was wrong. He thought about it all morning, especially in double maths, and all afternoon on the wind-wracked rugby pitch.
He loved the evenings.
He loved the evenings.
September 18, 2025 at 10:15 PM
He'd always hated getting up. As a boy, his mother would say to him: 'once you're up, you won't think about bed again'. But she was wrong. He thought about it all morning, especially in double maths, and all afternoon on the wind-wracked rugby pitch.
He loved the evenings.
He loved the evenings.