Photograph by the author

I go home for my brother’s engagement party. I go home, that means a lot, sometimes doesn’t feel like home but still remains it. My flight is late afternoon, I tend to come home at night, but this time as we drive back from the airport the light is still good, the trees their absolute true colour, I don’t see the familiar lights of machinery across the river, just the smoke. Mid-flight I make the notes significant things again; swimsuit cut, half wet hair, sliced fruit, pin pointed. I also write fate is kind, which is an old note that I keep repeating.