There's a monster in my pocket, a hum of life sits in my ear. The chocolate has run out and snuggly jumpers line my suitcase. Inspiration may be lacking in force and yet at 3 in the morning a pull towards words leaves certain thoughts aching.
There are questions parading, constant in their hunt for attention. Trivial, I think. Ridiculous, I think. And yet they gnaw with their little fangs, nipping at braincells and stirring an exhausted mind. Questions of where to, of when. Of what now and of how. Of colours I need, creations unstable in their image just yet, plans not yet made, commitments to be faced.
There is quiet on the outside, cacophony within.
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