In the morning I’m at home and I make bread and little cakes from my huge heart bowl. I think of my lovely aunt who chose the bowl with me, on the same day that I decided to write for 100 days. Last night I read her writing, day two of her own challenge, and I see that on the same day we have both written about our goose bumped bare arms. I don’t believe in coincidences but I do believe in the invisible threads that join life to life, one heart string tugging another.
In the evening I take the train home through London and watch the city skyline sunset, thinking what it takes to make those connections, or more accurately what it takes to make them visible.
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