Sunday morning, turn on the radio. The Doors are playing and I am instantly transported back to my student days, hanging out in packs on Bristol streets, messing around in parks on  sunny days, counting out coins for another round in tiny crowded pubs, lying in the living rooms of dilapidated Victorian houses late at night having stupid conversations by candlelight, sagging sofas hidden under patterned fabrics, film posters blue-tacked to peeling wallpaper, and music, always music, a fourth dimension to the large messy rooms, music you could float away on, Massive Attack, The Cure, Talk Talk,  The Doors. “Cars hiss by my window” Jim Morrison intoned in my favourite Doors song, “like the waves down on the beach.” I loved that line back then, the collision between the natural and the man-made, the soothing and the restless.

The song ends and I am returned, unharmed, to the present. I smile briefly and carry on making coffee.

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