Bright

I'd like to think that the big city is out there, but it isn't. The big city is not encumbered on those bright lights that are clustered like diamonds on top of the skyscrapers and smooth the blackness of the night with their think silk veil of white. The big journey is within and now, and then and everywhere in between, and perhaps not just later.

You look through the slates of the blind that's pulled down the window, and see the towers overlooking the town. But you see everything from the back of the hospital, in this tiny room, and realise that the big city is within, and now, and then, and everywhere in between and perhaps not just later, but not there, not over there.