Strange to think that soon someone else will sleep in my bed, wake up in my room, hear the crows outside and the morning traffic, feel the narrow band of sunlight falling through my curtains, hide under my covers, afraid of the day, of the task, of the world, so that he will cling like a castaway to my lingering dream and my waking body, unable to rid himself of the vague sensation that our life really belongs to someone else.

© 2009–2023, Martijn Wallage