There are days I wake up and still find it hard to believe that I actually live in England. Then I stare at the sign, see the cars on the opposite side of the road and listen to the accents. I'm in England and there are times I get real scared.
I can wander along, wander aimlessly and wonder aimlessly. I can walk the streets as the invisible man. A man who knows that even amongst the crowd, I am a lone and solitary figure. And even so, there are those magical fleeting moments where the people who see me laugh and smile at my contrary, zany disposition. Yet, despite these times of lacking direction, of fears of an uncertain future, these moments I meander in this market town, make me realise how much I have and how far I've come along.
And I reflect upon the reflection, on the window and in my mind. I think back to that day when I took that chance, uprooted my life and moved to this market town.
I gaze at the virtually deserted street and feel a sense of calmness amongst my confusion. This market town, a poignant reminder of some of the worst and some of the best times of my life.
One final look westwards down Derby Street in Leek. One final moment to savour the spire of Trinity Church, as it points towards the evening glow.
Now it was time to go home. Home and back through my front door. A life of a virtual recluse who for those few magical fleeting moments, went up into this market town, made them laugh, made them smile.