If I close my eyes hard enough I’m not even here. There’s the sound of a waterfall draining over the horizon, the smell of peonies and the softness of mossy rocks. There’s somewhere else where real things happen inexplicably, the sound of grit and the colour grey. There’s sunlight everywhere, though poured in different measures over different regions. Sometimes I wish there were less, unless it looks too beautiful and then I find it excuses itself. If I open my eyes I will see dust forming in the wake of the day as it wears itself down into nothing.
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.