Wind plays in the trees’ bony upper boughs.
There can’t be a patch of earth that has not had someone’s boot put upon it.
The sea, the sea!
At this lofty altitude the wind is altogether more fierce.
She has always imagined herself being weightless.
It’s just us and the sky.
Look over there. What an incredible thing.
But I do like the countryside. I like the space and the quiet.
One thing about civilisation, it keeps people warm.
It’s certainly peaceful.
Didn’t you tell me you wanted to visit the sea?
But where are you sending me now?
Where do you think we are going?
Gone Fishin’
This village isn’t right.
The passage of time is funny; it can run so fast or so slow.
This journey has been endless.
It’s just a thing people say.
Sometimes, very rarely, good things come out of bad things.
After men crawled out of the sea they learned to worship the sun.
When the trees fall away, the sky is enormous.
The road is empty of traffic, but it has a history of violence.
Is that where we’re going, then?
What are tears if not drops of sea water?
I almost wish we were going to the sea.
He could never have predicted his morning would end up like this.
The whole thing is too ridiculous.
But she has travelled too far and is a different person these days.
The realisation hits her like a splash of cold water.
What home? I don’t have a home.
The other will follow; how can it resist?
Neither says a word; they are no longer friends.
Next Page »