My sleep on Tuesday night was unsurprisingly troubled, plagued by downward visions and vertigo. It could so easily have been us. We traversed the bridge thousands of times, but we all escaped death, and we now must truly live. I wrote this in the early hours of Wednesday morning while trying to calm myself down.
“When the news came in we were shaking in the kitchen,
tying knots thinking who was missing,
and we were lucky in our cheating of death,
so I now resolve to savour every breath.
Colours would be nothing if they never were to fade,
and there’d be no joy in music if it didn’t drift away,
and though the tragedy is real, hopeful lives snatched,
that quota of life must with reverence be matched. “
Distance 