Past Life

During certain afternoons, when a bright sun is piercing through my cabin portholes,  I get transported to the 40s. Memories of some gun ship in the past life.

My other memories include a dark wintery quay on a North Russian night in the 20s or maybe the 30s (it’s a very stark memory); a summer in India in the late 20s or 40s before we went back,  some lonely lifetime spent in Australia, unknown era, time doesn’t move in the bushland.

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