An end

On the bus into Athens from the airport I realised that a favourite scarf was no longer round my neck. Nor on the bus floor. I thought backwards through my journey to when I knew I had it and considered all the places where we might have become separated.

We never know when we will lose something; we never know until after the end what its arc in our lives will turn out to have been. I was expecting much more time with this scarf but, well, the end is now. Partly I celebrated how much I’ve enjoyed it. Partly I mourned it. And, in the tiny bit of impossible hope that every ending trails, I emailed the airline and the airport.


The first of a week’s backblips from Greece.