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Out of sync. The coldness of platforms the scent of morning drawing near. I…

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22 January 2026 at 07:25

Out of sync. The coldness of platforms the scent of morning drawing near. Icy hands clear blue above silent concrete freezing wires and an imposter always close to giggle while thoughts try to refocus. A blurred world all around, once train doors closed again. Heading on.

(Still morning white on the roofs, a certain cold emanating from the walls…

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21 November 2025 at 07:36

(Still morning white on the roofs, a certain cold emanating from the walls and windowpanes and one's tempted to leave a flat hand on these surfaces to feel the early days weather. Still-pale sun, hazy air, soft colours. 7am and on, remembering the days of chasing clouds and gazing into open skies.)

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