The temperature in Christchurch has become chilly enough that when I cycle around, the cold air makes my eyes water. My right eye notices it the most, and I feel it well up, and a single tear emerges, and slides down my cheek.
I leave it, let it trace its path down my face, and cool and try in the cold air. All that is left is a dry, salty rivulet.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.