James Manresa

The blue of the perpendiculars

Moby fills the air. You see an arm stroke with each piano key as the trees slip by the car window, protected by their shade. Water is still dripping down your back wetting your t-shirt, although some drops prefer the generous outline of your nose to slide until they rest on your lips. You thankfully …

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Dressed in a teared Dragon Ball T-shirt and an older than Methuselah dressing gown, the cup of tea warms my hands. My breath materialises in the cold morning air. Far, very far indeed, the Pyrenees’ snow reflects the first sunbeams. The earlier rising wood nuthatches visit the bird feeder where I left the unnecessary breadcrumbs. …

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