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Holiday

We were supposed to be on holiday from today. We would be in the car now embarking on our journey to Yorkshire. It was just a week away, nothing fancy, just walking, resting, and sitting close up to the fire in The Lion and doing crosswords. I am sad that we couldn’t go. I like to escape and it’s been so long. But I must let it go, as I have done and enjoy what is.

She is safe. She has messaged me. They are in. Thank god. And I do, so much.

I want a day of being held, safe in work that is not challenging but repetitive, known, familiar. Tomorrow I will be braver. I want to order it all, all the jumble of ideas that besiege my brain from waking to sleeping. I want to give birth to them, let them all have oxygen but it is a muddle that needs to be managed. Help.

I dreamt that my phone was encased in wood. Beautiful wood with stunning grain but I couldn’t get at the buttons. I could hear people talking to me but I couldn’t respond. And then I dreamt of having to set up a ‘starter’ for yoghurt or was it sourdough (a notion filched from a crossword clue we had done earlier – how prosaic) but I’d messed it up and had to dash off and begin again. V was there as was he and my father who were trying to find a house to buy together. Ho Hum.

Not so cold this morning, did they sleep better?

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.