Anglesey · death · depression · diary · friends · friendship · midwinter · snow · time · winter

rumours of snow, 9th January 2017

I took the plunge and plunged the plunger of the cafetiere….. watching… listening to its whispering, its metal coil soothing down the glass quiet as an unimagined sound… down into the deep and black filtration revealing furtive shadows of aroma keen to covet my senses…. I’ve waited long enough and long enough is all the wait it needs… days come and go becoming months becoming….. coffee’s brewed…… washed up on another shore tangled up in weed and fishing nets discarded….. through the shells strewn strafed amidst the strand I hear your voices still, even now after all the years that flake away…… pour the coffee, good for starters…….my days flip-flop between what is and what should never have been… and what’ll never be again….. I used to write letters, rarely now, and receive them, rarely now……. we’ve become digital echoes of a past…….. coffee warms the lips with every sip that passes between…… what would we say?… what would I say, after all this time….. a conversation consisting almost entirely of repeated “wow, has it really been that long?”…… what else would I, we, say, would the silence be clumsy?… fumbled attempts at relearning each others moves… and moods……. would you be more a stranger than a stranger?… having once we circled in the others orbits now scattered among the debris of space and time…… I’d be nervous, more so than meeting a stranger which is difficult enough for me… but friends for whom time has tirelessly ticked away a shared ‘then‘ to collide awkwardly with a now…… more coffee takes the edge off the first bitter tang on the tongue…….  if we met now, for the first time ever, would we become friends?…. I’ve heard snow’s on the way….

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