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  • redacted

    Standing on the top floor and remembering how it was, four years ago, when it all began. How much the world has changed since then. This place has changed me, in turn, and kept me going. Watching pigeons skirl over the yard, leaving their shadows in pebble-patterns on the cars and vans, the sky is that autumnal vivid blue, the sun brassy on leaves that dance in the freshening wind. Listening to 'Perfect Day' ("you're going to reap just what you sew") I want to remember all of this. How it feels to belong somewhere; how it felt four years ago; how it will feel when it's all gone.

  • Jerome Lorieau

    Pigeons flying away by Southsea's promenade

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