Miranda Whall

8.00am

Wet, cooler, I missed the night, it felt like ours, the wood and the night felt like ours, now it was everyone’s else’s again, but we weren’t just visitors, I knew this place, it was my patch, I was cocky, I knew where to go and how to get there, I was like an animal that had slept through a storm, sniffing out the safe air, a bold wet nose, familiar.