A woman sits alone in a room and braces for the day. For the moments at her feet. For the hours yet to come. The variable and the constant. The things she cannot do and the things she must. She thinks about her life. She thinks about freedom. Commitment. She wonders if her enemy is time. She wonders if she can find some way out of this. No obvious solution presents itself. Perhaps if she had the time she could think of one.
Paddy Dobson
24th April 2021