Recap

 In the brief interlude between my last blog post and the one that I uploaded a short while back, much has changed and much has not. My favourite city in the world is home now. Some old memories of a little girl growing up in a book filled house have grown fainter, because a little boy is growing up in another book filled house and creating new memories at a breathless pace. The racer continues to race along - some paths shall never diverge. Old friends remain, and I realise I will probably grow old together with this lot. 

And new friends emerge - who write me poems and bring food over. 

In all this, there is the daily business of work-hobbies-chores to repeat cycles of. 

Even as I remind myself, how good it is to write again.

Aftermath

I could tell you I am wiser now, weary but at peace. I could tell you I know better now, myself and my life. I could tell you it’s been ten thousand days, nights and hours all packed into a single conversation. But you know all this, and more. 

It’s a lonely night, a dark road with a tiny pinprick of light ahead - you can see it if you squint really hard.

And it’s a long walk, on that lonely road.

And you keep going because that’s what it was always supposed to be like.