I've been trying to write. Not just tell what is happening, but write. Thoughts are spinning in my head, keeping me awake and rocking me to sleep. My room smells like ginger. I patiently wait for the package to drop through the letterbox. I patiently wait for the text to come through. And on and on I go. I wonder if I'll find a job. How long I'll have to look. I wonder if I did the right thing, if I made the right choice. I wonder whether I am waiting in vain.
But the butterfly bush in the neighbouring garden gives me peace in my thoughts and hope in my heart.
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