It is good to be alone sometimes.
My family went away for a week’s holiday someplace sunny, and my mum’s house is gloriously empty. Silent.
The silence is so loud when all the windows are shut. I sat down for a moment on the bed, and let the static sound of nothing engulf me.
It swept through my ears and pounded on my brain and allowed my thoughts to peep gently out then trip gaily down the lanes of my memory. Nothing to hinder them. Nobody calling to me, nobody asking me anything, nobody talking – anywhere.
It was glorious. I was gloriously alone, and not a whit lonely.