Hope

It’s a strange life we live.

Our generation rose like a phoenix from the ashes and rubble of the Berlin Wall and the Twin Towers.

Yet, in Phoenix, young minds twisted in a new kind of fear fire bullets into the hull of a ship which, once triumphant, begins to falter.

Faces alive with youth are presented with the worst kind of choice: to go down pledging honour to a familiar ship or swim away to an unknown shore.

Neither is easy.

Easy is to forget, to ignore, to sing at the top of your voice and drown out the sounds of shellfire in this post-war world.

To dance away the debts we can’t pay to our ancestors or the government.

There comes a time where all this and more becomes one black cloud.

One ordinary, uneventful, uninspiring aspect of life.

A little like tarmac.

But even tarmac glitters in the sunshine.


Hannah Crawford.