Fri Feb 13 22:28:13 GMT 2009
The heart of the country beats feverishly, arteries clogged by a lack of salt. My Mum is snowed in in the midlands, the country roads impassable and the school closed.
Sitting on the train home with the weary commuters I plug myself into my iPod and let my gaze float around the carriage, glancing off heads locked into newspapers, snapping now and then to the eyes of undistracted passengers. Music insulates me, mind floating.
The sun has gone down, and it is black outside the rushing train, electric lights recycled as reflections in dark windows. I'm going home to cabbage pancakes, and vodka, and you.