he invented reasons not to ride for six weeks so a bellicose three kilograms made its unwelcome way like a slivered splinter under your fingernail. One morning, unexpecedtly in a cupboard, he found ways to ride and for three weeks those three kilograms has announced its belligerent desire to remain encamped.
writing is a thinking in situ where words and ideas do a strange and odd dance of push, shove, seduction and swoon. As I neared the end of writing 1800 words I realised it was about the wrong thing, occasioning an odd mix of elation and frustration, tempered harshly by the alacrity of the deadline.
crackle and slide of gravel as the tyre finds its way, soft hands and souplesse