Thursday 16th September
Day 148
The moon leads me home tonight, following the curves of the M5. It hangs there, poking out from behind a black curtain - half of a broken dinner plate licked clean by a shining silvery tongue.
They say the moon is made of cheese but tonight it’s as creamy white as the velvet honey yogurt we poured over apple and blackberry crumble - enough for three bowls. Each as round as the moon; full to the brim with friendship.
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