I Wanted Rain.

Drove back from the coast. Not before one last walk on the beach. Wind turbines out at sea, stood in silent rows, stoic observers. Do you see me? Round the corner we found the Seals, we stood, me and the dog, watching them. They certainly didn’t seem stoic, nor observing, if anything they seemed indifferent, unbothered, unfazed, it’s one way to be.

Old WWII bunkers, sinking into the dunes. Somebody told me the adders are out this time of year, but that’s more in land, right? Stop to watch it all. I’ll be leaving with one hour left on my parking ticket, can pass it on. Get back to the house, pack the car, get going.

I wanted rain. I wanted to drive in rain.

Often if i’m scared of something going on in my life, Voldemort will be in my dream, a physical manifestation of whatever abstract it may be that’s troubling me. And often if I dream of love, it will be represented by the first girl I ever loved, in my late teens. These two figures branded into my subconscious like cigarette burns on the back of a hand.