nunoncastors

Sometimes I feel as though I’ve been hollowed out, cored like an apple, and set adrift midstream to be filled by whichever passing current sloshes into the void. Whole days can be lost to daydreaming as fanciful desires urge me to join the army, climb mountains, write epics and attain nirvana.

I can feel as though I should have been born two hundred years ago and worn a monocle, or that I was born two hundred years ago and did. Déjà vu raises its head and new people and places become eerily familiar, evoking memories I’ve never had.

It’s a strange and wonderful sensation, utterly ephemeral, like living in a story or being Mr. Benn.

There was always something shifty about that shopkeeper.