Dear Brooks

I heard the clap and flutter of grey wings and slowly realised your letter had been quietly waiting for me, as I quietly wait for you to return to my shores.

I was talking of another journey only this morning.  There was an open boat full of people shouting and I was alone in smaller one, scrabbling and fighting to get on to the other.  But they didn’t want me with them and they constantly pushed me back with great force, jeering.  The sea was like a Turner storm, and I feared that if I didn’t get into the larger boat I would perish.  So I tried and I tried, until the struggle was too much and I just let go.  I drifted off behind them and the waters around me grew calm and quiet.  I could still see the storm ahead and hear their tumultuous voices, but they had forgotten me already.  I looked up and for the first time could see the moon, bright, clear and golden.

I am still adrift and don’t know how or where this journey will end, but at last I can hear the sound of the water lapping the hull.  It’s beautiful.

I send this letter to you in a bottle.

With love B. x