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Boat (115)

The dark is beginning to assail me once more, particularly as I can see the mornings are coming later and later. I try my best to remain buoyant but it lurks. Seeing the boat helped. I’d noticed his lights first but when I walked down towards the harbour I thought I’d imagined it, for there was nothing. And then as I came back from the Perygyl he was there, his lights blazing, heading out to the open sea. I looked down into the interior of the vessel (it was just a small open fishing boat) and saw a lit screen (it looked like a TV but must’ve been some sort of radar/sonar navigational aid). The lights are such a comfort to me, as is the fact that someone else is awake and going out into the wild. What must it be like setting out into that wide expanse?

The sea was gentle again, making no foam.

And there is an excess of gulls. Baby ones stand there in the road, in the street, immobile and staring. Some are flattened into the tarmac, a shambles of feathers.

Is the butchers on the corner of Bridge Street closing? Business has never been brisk, I think.

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.