A novel extract

Let us consider for the moment the turning of the tides and the movement of the clouds above us. This relentless movement of nature. Her daily chores thriving around us as she continues the circle of life. There is a comfort in this constant movement of the air and the sea. Never still.
And what is human life if it is not forever moving? And what is emotion if it is not constantly changing? Like a wave out at sea, one can never see it for what it is as it moves and changes so quickly. It disappears as one watches it.
And what of history? What is that? Is it not forever changing and moving and being reshaped and recaptured and rethought? Do we look back today the same way we will look back tomorrow?
And who can ever see the present as it catches us and throws us just as quickly into the next moment, the next thought?
And what of love? The emotion with which we try and anchor ourselves, our homes, our future? What is that? Is it not different every time we feel it? It is as if we try and catch smoke in trying to keep this emotion still. To stay where it is and not change. But as quickly as one feels it they are looking to stop it. Stop it from changing and evolving and disappearing. 'It was not like this the day we met. I remember how you could not have enough of me, when all you needed was me by your side.' We wonder and demand. Does it even exist?
Does God? Do you? Or me? Who is me? What am I? One can hardly know as on and on the head whirls and swirls with thoughts, with emotions, with history, with now, with then, with love, with loss. And in the loss of love, what is it that happens to the self? One minute you are sure of who you are and the next, maybe you could be something else. You never wanted this, you need that, can settle for this but not that, it cannot have been real, must have been a dream. You do not recognise them as the person you fell in love with because that person died the moment you felt that emotion. The following years have been your attempt to find them again and in the process you lost you, if you ever had you in the first place.
So, who am I? That's an impossible question to answer.


This extract comes from the notebook of the novel I am writing. It is imagined from the head of one of the two characters I believe the story will revolve around but everything is very much a work in progress at the moment. I found this piece as I was re reading my notes this evening and thought it could stand alone as a teaser and decided to share it with you.