Dreams: wooden bed frames

I’ve decided to record Saffron’s dreams here, since there is no greater anonymity than the secrecy of our night time escapes. I usually dream vividly and intensely, in dark tones and strange shapes.

A horn blares and I am standing alone on the top floor of a hotel. Through the open window, the city below is washed in afternoon sun. Balconies draped in dark cloth and dusty roads gitter beneath. I blink and to my right there are hundreds of wooden bed frames. They litter the flat dusty land, stretching out to the horizon. I blink again and land on my feet, I’m standing in a busy square, suitcase in tow. On to the next one. 

– Saffron

The Men in My Life: Part 1

In rolling hills, thick fern, and under sunsets on open farm land, we laughed and played. The first of the men in my life was Jake. Aged 5 – 16, our two families met every year for week long breaks.

Together, with our younger siblings, we conquered deep valleys, rocky cliffs and long ridges. Childish games and tricks were joined by adolescence and curiousity as we grew. He was the funniest person I knew. I remember watching his auburn hair in the setting sun and being utterly in love. But I later discovered to my dismay at age 14 that I fell in love with every perfect stranger. 

When I was 16, Jake’s parents separated, and with that the family holidays came to a grinding halt. There were no more childish games or giggling in the setting sun. We all steadily grew apart, especially as my own parents’ marriage began to fall apart. 

While I was studying in the city, I contacted Jake on a whim. He was studying further South, and got the train to the city one morning. When we met I didn’t recognise him. 4 years had passed and Jake’s auburn hair had grown darker, matching a new thick beard, and he was taller and broader. He wasn’t the same giggly 15 year old I had remembered. But he was Jake. 

We spent the day wandering around the city and talking. I told him about my studies and rather hesitantly about my new boyfriend . He told me about his parents and his studies in the South.In fact we talked for so long, 10 hours had passed by before we realised what the time was. In those ten hours the 14 year old within me fell in love with him all over again.

I had always hoped that when we were grown, we would continue the family holidays with our own families. Hopefully Part 1 is still to be continued.

September Update

September can be a time of great worry for many of us. It marks the end of summer, and the beginning of the darker months. Autumn will always remind me of the beginning of a new school term or the start of a new school altogether. Feelings of dread and panic tend to join hand in hand filling my stomach with anxiety.

Today I’ve taken a sick day. I think the months of commuting and 5am starts have definitely taken a toll on my body. My limbs ache. And not the way they do after a long run. I feel tired and wasted.

But today is a beautiful autumn day. The sun is lower than usual, the leaves are burnt orange and the breeze is still warm. I’m sitting in a park watching dog walkers and excited children drift by. Autumn is beautiful.

A friend of my Dad’s, Alyssa, who suffered from depression and alcoholism, once told my Dad to just look. Autumn is a time of shift between seasons, a reminder that nothing lasts forever. But even in the darkest of times, and when we feel lowest, it’s still possible to see how beautiful September is. The trees are a blanket of orange and auburn, the air is cool and the sun is still warm. 

It’s not winter yet.
– Saffron