I Was Here

 

To be the first to walk across the golden

sand in the morning, to leave a footprint

pressed into the sand like a memo

I was here

as the sun beams down

and the quiet, golden silence

of the morning is a secret held

by me alone, imprinted on my mind,

my shoes dangling at my side

sand clinging to my wet feet,

and I wish, that I was there again.

Coffee, A Wetsuit – and not much else // Short Story

I had been driving all night. My only thought was of coffee. I needed it and I needed it fast, or I was going to fall asleep at the wheel. I couldn’t even take in the little Cornish cove that I had pulled up in front of as I was drawn towards the only source of caffeine I can see. The small cafe is only just putting out the signs, but as I stumble towards it, I don’t care. I can’t even process the fact that I had arrived in Cornwall at long last.

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Travel: Fowey

Arriving in Fowey again is like entering one of my own dreams. Except this time, the streets are real, and as we round the corner, down the hill, into the town, I know that this really exists. And yet, it takes me a moment – a few moments – to realise that I am not dreaming, and that I am really there again.

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