Trail of Ants

Déjà vu: a flash flood of familiarity bursting through the secret sluice between our worlds. I’m sitting on a tiny tropical island that wears a golden ring of sand engraved by faint footprints being slowly blotted out by the sapphire of the ocean. I know this island well. I know where the sun sizzles the horizon at the end of play and I know where she washes the sleep from her morning eyes. I know its highest point, its longest route and its shortest way. Then this, is surely déjà vu? Non, Madame, Monsieur. I just believed my heart, and bullied my head to bring her here. Continue reading ‘Turning Circles’