I CLOSE my eyes from the whirlwind outside Images left in the past run through my mind. Days and nights when we could not go out, where there was no electricity around. Candles spread through the house, pasta and bean dishes filling our empty stomachs. So much worry yet so many stories told, filled with laughter and imagination. THE ONLY HOURS OF HOPE. SURVIVAL DANGLING ON THE ROPE. If I turn within, if I seem to go into this world of mine - is to later come out and cope better with the outside. To spread my arms open wide, to touch the ever so distant sky, to fall over again in love with life and finally OPEN my eyes.
N.B. is about to finish a Creative Writing MA at a university in London. She writes mostly non-fiction and poetry. At the moment she is working on her debut novel.