Two halves of one sky

--

It is time for me to leave the island again. There's something very familiar about departures. It's not the packing, and it's not where you're going or when you're coming back. It's a special, cold, biting freedom. It's a sublime vertigo that is in the raising of the anchors and the unfurling of the sails; in boarding the plane or catching the train.

I'll be going tomorrow, but I won't take long.