Rain (8)

What you lose on the swings you gain on the roundabouts. The ice and cold has turned to rain. So be it. I was snug. I am fortunate. I am fortunate.

No smells from the bakery. the door was fast shut. And the wind wasn’t so bad. Not 40mph at least. It’s still dark at almost 8am. The morning is trying to appear. Onward.

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.