"As long as I kept moving, my grief streamed out behind me like a swimmer's long hair in water. I knew the weight was there but it didn't touch me. Only when I stopped did they slick, dark stuff of it come floating around my face, catching my arms and throat till I began to drown. So I just didn't stop." - Barbara Kingsolver
Three years ago, I couldn't outwardly explain my grief.
It’s the open air markets that I love. The way that you don't even have to know the way to the Borough Market in London for the aromas carried by the wind will guide you right to its core. Cross this street, go through this alleyway, down those stairs. Right to the heart of the action.