But the new day wasn’t as bright. And a week later, some doubt returned. Shaking my head again, I press my eye and stare. Could it just be my imagi...ation? A trick of the light, or the mind, an anniversary reminder of what was… I move away from the door, mind working. What shall I say? What will YOU say? Knees weak, I sit on a chair. My eyes on the door, jumping when the doorbell rings again. Where would I start? Some things must never be said, or told. I swallowed them long ago. I think now. ’My taxi labours along the city streets, every set of lights against me as the sweet anticipation inside me threatens to succumb to the frustration of not being with you already. There are alcohol-fuelled revellers pouring out of clubs and bars into the streets and onto the roads, holding my journey up further. Expletives are offered by the driver and ignored by everyone. I don't want anything interrupting my thoughts. Thoughts of you. Thoughts of what you could have possibly got me. Memories. More

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