February, 2020
Roar and whirr, somehow a soundtrack to my quiet thinking, unlikely and un-tranquil. Stuffy, rickety and an earlier milkshake threatening to make a reappearance but somehow the shadows from a car's roof rack set pulsing by passing streetlights make the back of a bus the place where I'm reminded of who I am, who I knew myself to be on a similar un-similar journey. The familiar pull to what I know is right tugs comfortingly somewhere deep inside, the way a gentle tide may cause a small boat to softly lilt and tug trance-like at it's mooring. I knew I'd be beckoned again, coaxed home, I always am... with relentless love. I just didn't expect it would be through such a mundane treat. I do so love these little moments, on the edge of a precipice, of my next journey. -S.S.
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