It seemed unreal,as if I had been on a journey I was not sure I had really wanted to embark upon in the first place.It might have been an adventure and pleasant but, overall, was tortured, riven and difficult https://towardsutopia.wordpress.com/2015/06/10/ruptureraptureattempted-by-steven-benson/
So, now, I sit outside a familiar former(and now current again) haunt in Lark Lane and view everything I had taken for granted( and, only now, truly appreciate) for twenty-three years: the cafes, the tattoo parlour, the decaying façade of the legendary “Keiths”, the Chinese Grocer; and all the other quirky appurtenances of this wacky street.
I am sitting around two corners from the deracinated (probably, by now) pile that was home,for all those years; concomitantly, I am sitting around two corners from my (second!) NEW home; which has the best of four (environmental) worlds: near Lark Lane;almost opposite Sefton Park; in the heart of an inadvertent wildlife sanctuary; and doors away from three examples of decayed (former) splendour. So, I AM HOME AGAIN, with bonuses!
It seemed to me like I had survived a tortuous route and journey back home (through part luck, part determination), which-struggling to write (self-referentially and in ersatz, cod loosely sebaldian style) sinuously, as I am, relecting back thus the twists and turns of that route (or, as it felt more like, march):-I,periphrastically and with oxymoron, put the main clause-at the end. Or: the main clause at the end: I had arrived.
Talking of transformation, I am reading “Orlando” by Woolf; reflexions thereon to follow!