GHOST LETTER 54

Image by Christine Renney It was just beginning to get light when I set out from the City and now it is almost dark. I have walked right through the daylight hours, from dawn to dusk. The road on my right as I walked was blurred and noisy, like an out of tune radio orContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 54”

GHOST LETTER 53

Image by Christine Renney I have managed to abandon the City yet again but there it is; the point that rankles, a sharp needle stuck in my side as I walk, the fact that I have done this before, that I am doing it again. I rarely think about my former existence, but I rememberContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 53”

GHOST LETTER 49

Image by Christine Renney I have stumbled away from the periphery, from the path I have forged by sheer persistence, by relentlessly walking. I look down at my feet and scan the ground in front of me. I am moving into the open and I have ventured out here before, onto these tracts of wastelandContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 49”

GHOST LETTER 47

Image by Christine Renney I have abandoned the route and my meandering has now moved onto a new level. I am exploring a vast area that was once a thriving centre of industry but is now deserted. I walk between the buildings and the sky above is reduced to narrow strips of grey. I amContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 47”

GHOST LETTER 44

Image by Christine Renney It isn’t as deserted here on the outskirts as I had at first believed. This tract of wasteland circles the City and I have been walking it for almost a week. Gradually I have become aware of the life here, that despite the degradation there are pockets of industry. And despiteContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 44”

GHOST LETTER 43

Image by Christine Renney Can a ghost be used like this? Trapped in a maze, looked down upon from above, one of many, oblivious of the others, a specimen in a jar, a rat – no a mouse, turning the wheel? Constantly failing at reaching the cheese? I am walking again. Not in order toContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 43”

GHOST LETTER 36

Image by Christine Renney Can alcohol still take hold? Get inside and make its demands? Or am I too full of holes and will it seep through the scars? I have separated the can from its companions, freed it from the plastic ring and set it down in front of where I am sitting. LeaningContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 36”

GHOST LETTER 35

Image by Christine Renney I have money now, just a few coins, and gripping them tightly, I delve deep into the lining of my coat as I walk. I work a coin between my thumb and forefinger. I take them out and move them from hand to hand. I thrust the coins deep into theContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 35”

GHOST LETTER 33

Image by Christine Renney I try to convince myself it is sudden, this want, this need. It has been growing inside of me, unbidden, a well without water. How can I talk again after so long? Each time it surfaces I suppress it and resist. I could so easily run, abandon the City, and makeContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 33”

GHOST LETTER 32

Image by Christine Renney I know this place. I have been here before. Is it possible I have been heading for this particular city all along? That the idea of the road as endless was merely a conceit and no matter how often I have stopped and turned myself around, that the walking in circlesContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 32”