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Goosebumps in Belfast.

[Music: Bon Iver - Holocene ]

521am.  Rising naturally in my tent, not another soul stirs.  A gull curls over grey Belfast bay, just across the lawn.  The clouds, a homogeneous mist, dense only enough to help me forget there is a sun behind them.  Scattered boats, moored, stir not.  My daily movements  under the park tent and the rain comes down, chattering.  I sit now, the headphones funneling  sweetness to me like it’s intravenous.  Goosebumps erupt, leaving a trail of Braille spelling out messages of overwhelming gratitude.

Category: environment, Writings

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