To the Year of Returning
A toast to 2017, the year of Returning. A toast to Melinda, whose death sent shockwaves through my present and returned me - to summers at Starrigan; and every second Saturday; and staying far too late; and nights around our family dinner table; and an airport photoshoot; and a tearful declaration of your imprint on my life. To January 1st, 2017, when we rang in your last New Year - together. A toast to London, where I've dreamed of returning since the moment I left. Everything, everything reminded me of that first summer - cobblestones and clocks and crowds, and bridges and books and Bank, and trains and tea and the theatre, and delights, dreams, desires. To the city where I first left my heart a decade ago, and returned to tuck it in; s afe among aged streets until it calls me home again. A toast to stories, whose beloved prose I've revisited time and time again. To the characters and worlds I've lived in many times befor