I am on a bus. This will take me from Riga to Tallinn. It’s night in January, shortly after the New Year, and I am again en route to another city. My head is leaning against the cold window and I am nodding into a soft, pensive sleep. My eyes are open or closed and I feel darkness, imagining the road shaking away and the bus slipping into a ravine. We are gone; a lost memory of a dream. Not even known to have been known.
There is some shelter in that space. I took refuge there.
Romania 2008, and Estonia/Latvia/Sweden 2008/09 following the 26/11 Mumbai Attacks