The Journy

This is a short creative writing piece inspired by the journey to my home town up North, it is accompanied by a first hand photographical piece. 

I fall into a blurred musky dream of dark dusted ally-ways of powdered bricks. The ghost like decaying walls are tattooed with the ink of a silver star, like the spirit of the world had struck the dark street with a small ray of light from its core

The slow rumble of the rusted train as it approaches the stern concreate platform, the scatter of people dispersing like pages from a descending book, each one with a story, a life, a flutter. The journey begins.

Then at last I fall into the pure, the tranquil. The warm silky colours melt into one another, creating swirls of warm air that wraps around me like a creamy coffee on a cold northern morning. The trees dance in the honey-suckled breeze that carries the sweet scent of the woven grass of the land in which I know. 

As I walk in the land of translucent dreams. I fall in love with the dark, the light and the journey in which I have and will take.