it’s two in the morning and it’s dark outside and i’m sat in bed with candles flickering and sail boats rattling.
everything seems surprisingly calm and at peace when all of a sudden the wind ran wild and the rain dashed ditto as if my thoughts were heard and jealousy throbbed like a blue whale, howling and swallowing green plankton and krills who once floated so freely in glee. and the storm muffled as if rage had skimmed out of the baleen plates and the wind and rain slowly lulled into a whale song, one that mesmerised the sea.

New York’s skyline lit up in memory. 911. by TJ Taylor Jones