My favourite weather is overcast; the sensation of casual fascination and unstipulated terror, the massage therapist not holding a pillow terminally over your face, the bus passenger not stabbing his key into your eye as he walks past your aisle seat, the approaching driver not mounting the pavement and breaking your spine, the government not secretly poisoning the water supply to supress your resistance, the view of your old flat not being blocked by the extension of the supermarket, the party dress you’re not wearing to clean the bathroom.
Sometimes you have to wake up in the middle of the night to check that you’re not blind. You look at the blinking red light on the smoke alarm above your bed, and then at the green light on your phone- the one that tells you it’s fully charged. You know, incase all you can see is black and red, so you want to make sure you can see green too. And you can. And your partner asks you why you’re stood on the bed looking at the smoke alarm. Every time. Continue reading “Senses”