Episode 2-61 – Shells

I didn’t sleep at all last night.

I just slept for two hours: it’s four in the afternoon. I haven’t showered in two days. My hair is knotty and dry. My face is pale. My eyes are red.

I walked on Sandymount this morning and cried. The tears became part of the tide. I looked at the water and I wished it would come in and take me. I thought, “I could just keep walking out”; just switch off, go into screen saver mode, shut down the brain and walk. Nobody could see me. Nobody could stop me.

There was light firing down through the greyness over Killiney Hill: the kind of light you see when someone’s going on about heaven. Crooked rectangles – yeah there’s probably a mathematical term for them – stabbing the miserable rock through the fog that collects on either side of Dublin Bay.

Howth Me Killiney

Walk

Take Me

I came home. Sort of. My body is here. My mind is still on the beach.

I’m too tired to cut. I’m too tired to eat, to pee, to listen, to speak.

I need someone to wash me, comb my hair, dress me, hold me but not speak to me. And not expect anything of me. I’m so tired.

I saw this print on the beach. If looked like a key. I was hopeful; was someone listening? Grandad? Aunty D? Then I saw more of the same, in pairs: they were bird prints. This one was just odd, alone; solitary.

I came home.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s