September last: Start small

Yesterday morning hurting from the inside out, poisoned, dog tired, worn see-through by the endless cycles.

Yesterday I missed out some of the offending.

Today I woke up after a long night putting the world to rights, tired but not feeling the usual sludge of the toxic tide running through my veins.

Then a friend spent a long time with clever, probbing fingers patiently removing the rusted up, badly put together exo-skeleton nailed through to my bones by the disease and the drugs.  Two hours later I clambered dazed, unsteady and slow to my feet but moving freely not creaking like old trees in high winds, ribs no longer sticking through my lungs at right angles.

And I took a long hard look at the bike languishing in the shed and then rummaged through drawers for unfamiliar clothes before finally being ready to slowly pedal off into the sunset.  No lights in the glooming, birds announcing the end of the day. The smell of September, the breeze hinting all too heavily at the end of Summer and the start of the new season.  The smell of horse sh*t and wet grass.  It still hurt, a missed dose of drugs and a massage aren’t quite a miracle cure but the memories stirred ran clear, blue, rivers through my mind…

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