Night Swimming

That darkest hour before the dawn, when myriad shades of blue give way to uniform black velvet, adorned with Orion’s own studded belt.

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My Church of Choice

As we walk back along the rough concrete walkway from Rottingdean to Brighton, we squint through chalk dust whipped up from the cliffs and watch immense bridal veils of foam blowing up and over the distant Marina.

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Hastening On

This morning, like every morning, I shut the door behind me and walked through the morning-lit park into town. Except this morning, the birds that graced the frost-laden lawn were gulls and mallards, not the chattering jays of Riegrovy.

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