Image by Christine Renney There is a window in the early hours when the bus station is deserted. The rush hour crowd is long gone and it is a chance for the others, for those who don’t leave, to step in from out of the rain and take shelter. It is our turn to wait.Continue reading “GHOST LETTER 51”


Image by Christine Renney To say I have completed the circle and made my way around again would be going too far, and yet these city streets that I frequent and where I linger they form a block and it has become somewhere. A place I can’t help feeling isn’t so unlike the one fromContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 41”


Image by Christine Renney After walking for so long and so far, the roads have merged in my mind. Just one route and, alongside the relentless traffic, I forged my way straight ahead and I didn’t stop and I didn’t turn. I do recall an abandoned stretch. It had been raining and in the brightContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 38”


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”


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”


The litter strewn here has faded. I kick through it, the sweet wrappers and crushed cans. At the end of the street the trash has gathered in the entrance way to an abandoned shop. I step under the glass canopy and, crouching down, I start to sift through it. I pick at the paper andContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 24”