Home

It’s not a lovely view. Nothing special. I gaze across at a small office block. Before it, a small garden square, mostly paved. Unlovely, unloved. Turning my head to the left, the canal. Traffic, its counterflow. More office buildings loom behind, the Luas bridge bisecting them. I stand in my alcove, open the window and feel the cold rain, the cool air. My space. My music playing. My home. It is special – it is my view.