The compulsion to press my face against the train window and drink in that timeless view. The string of ‘Remember when’s that tumbled from my lips like fairy-tale diamonds and pearls. The feeling of coming home.
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The compulsion to press my face against the train window and drink in that timeless view. The string of ‘Remember when’s that tumbled from my lips like fairy-tale diamonds and pearls. The feeling of coming home.
Read more…
I don’t know what I was looking for when I first took the train a whole ten minutes North into Newcastle – billowing chimneys and red brick rows?
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I have known your seasons of perdition and regain, breathed your cutgrass summers and autumn petrichor.
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