Wrapped in the warmth of a hearth-heated home, gazing through the window at the snow falling through the dark, she has a fleeting moment of recognition as the outline of her face is traced in firelight and reflected in glass. I’m here, she thinks. Strange thought, often taken for granted, but there you are, in here, and other people, out there. In this place, this time, with these thoughts and feelings at the end of a long series of complex events that began with simple elements and ends with self-awareness. And empathy, or at least the illusion of it.
Paddy Dobson
1st November 2023