The past is comforting, beaten out, done with. But it’s also sad. That was what happened. It looks so much smaller from here. How did we fit ourselves into that situation? When there was scope for almost anything, when the world opened out stretched like the fantastic silks of a spiderweb. It would catch the light and it could go anywhere.
In the end it didn’t. In the end it was us, cosy and scrambling around between days, dredging up feelings, being overtaken by tsunamis of our own making.
In the end, is where we are now. Don’t look down.
The other day I got into some interesting discussions about past tense, present tense. I started to wonder - are we afraid of present tense in the way that we can't bear to look at what's in front of us? Coming soon - flashes in *future* tense. Probably.