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Day Eight: Favourite Sound

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You push open the door and realise you can hear the crackle of the fireplace and the sound of Jakob Dylan on the stereo. Then there’s the unmistakeable sound another person makes when you share thirty square metres.

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Travelling Spaces

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I discover myself, at the end of the silent-not silence and the travelling spaces; still myself. A storyteller. A poetry-lover, wanderer and mystical romantic. A hopeful idealist, pragmatic optimist. I am home; in my skin and my places. “He should write her a letter to tell her he is sitting in an airport on his way home and he is not thinking about how the meeting went or whether he thinks Rob will close the deal. No, he is simply thinking of her and whether he has done enough to keep her love this month, because he worries so that his absence is too much and too often.”

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