Lost and found

So it’s true, then.

Time really does accelerate as you enter the latter decades of your life. Standing here, on the other side of grief and trauma, I’m sucked deeper and faster into the mundane: a relentless flush down a very slick s-bend.

The addict in the hoodie

source: http://www.theguardian.com/society/2009/oct/09/teenage-boys-survey Photo: Lorna Roach

The addict in the hoodie wanders up and down the dual carriageway I used to live on. His hoodie is black, his skin almost transparent. 

Alcohol will kill you … eventually

Eventually, alcohol will kill you. Drink enough, for long enough, and you’ll die. It’s as simple as that. 

Sometimes I feel like sticking my foot in front of a car, just to feel the crush of its tyres against my bones

(c) George Hodan

I stand at the intersection, waiting for the light to change. A car comes towards me. I hesitate. For a split-second I want to step forward. I imagine myself doing this: putting my foot out as if to trip the oncoming car. 

Separation agreement

Separation. Agreement. Two words that don’t belong next to each other. Two bifurcating lines that somehow fuse together further down the path. Really, there is something fundamentally oxymoronic about the phrase.

To be honest, I’m stuck on the agreement part.

The third sense

Sight, sound, smell, taste, touch. That’s the order, right? It is for me, anyway, making “smell” the third sense. And not just a lowly third sense either, because something about this sense is transcendent – it has the power to link up with your sixth sense.
And if, like the lady above, you find something rotten in the air, chances are it’s indicative of an existential decay of some sort. Or, in some cases, it could just be a fart.

When all you’re left with is alone

One lonely robot. (c) Married to an Alcoholic

It’s 5am. In the past three hours, I’ve reached over three times trying to find her little toes. Because by this time, she’s padded over the landing and crept into my bed because she’s scared.

And each time I reach over, I remember she’s not here.

The sun rises faster over Nairobi

Sunrise over Nairobi National Park (c) Married to an Alcoholic

An orange ember that catches and flares bright, then brighter across the sky. This is sunrise in Nairobi. You could video it without taking up too much data on your phone. It happens that fast.

Saturday, early morning

Saturday, early morning
Daughter snoring
Tyres outside boring
through rain damp street

There and back again

Back. After months of anxious searching, raised hopes and panicked losses, I’m back. How many months has it been? Living under a superstitious spell that buttoned my lips and stilled my fingers?