Cold (3)

The third day in and I’m feeling a little more like myself. The cocooning is still present and my head is thick with it. And he has it now. His face was like a smacked arse when I went in to wake him. He softens though. Stoicism isn’t his forte. So be it. I walked this morning. I was glad to get out of bed, my dreams were hallucinatory and my heart raced. Best get up be out in the fresh air. It was sharp, the air, a frosty dampness that caught at my face. It was quiet, no one about. January stretches ahead. I catch my fear. It’s the size of it, the commitment of it. Can I do it? Can I do it alone? I can see the small details, the occasional chapter but the whole still alludes me. All I can do is put one foot in front of the other. I’m going to the National Library to do some research today. A beginning. I often think if I just do what others do, ape their behaviour it will come. Will it? Why am I so unbrave?

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.