Friday, 10 February 2006


In my 7 by 2 paned office window the sky is blue. The merest tip of a fluffy white cloud is visible in the bottom of the bottom left pane. An tiny areoplane climbs into the blue travelling from the bottom right through the bottom left pane leaving a double trail of vapour that gradually fades until its the faintest etched line. The tip of the cloud (like an iceberg I'm sure if I stood up it would be much bigger than I can see) moves in the opposite direction, until it slides out of view from the bottom right pane, trailing wisps of cloud following it.

I can tell its a sunny day and I long to leave here, to be outside feeling the chill of the air and the merest touch of sun on my face rather than staring at it out of the Victorian school window in my cell-like office.

Big flock (not sure flock sounds right) loft of pigeons swoops around flashing grey and silver as their undersides are exposed whilst banking. A wisp of jealousy of their freedom courses through my body.

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