The trap
Sometimes i feel trapped. Time devours me and i start thinking my nice firm routines every day are nothing but the bars of a medium-sized cell. Grocery shopping. Nappy changing. Shower. Net. Blogs. Shoe laces. Small talk. Stroller wheels. Trapped.

Of course there are many break throughs in the cage. Bruno smiling. Any size of good news. Or going into the city to see friends and a great bunch of strangers. Untrapped. Is that even a word?

I drove into Madrid yesterday afternoon to drop Mum off at the airport. She was going to visit her sister in England. Except she didn't. As she was about to embark, she gloomily discovered her ID had just expired. She had to go back home and buy a new ticket to fly today. Talk about feeling trapped.