In My Lungs the Ocean Swells, VAULT Festival

In My Lungs The Ocean Swells_Jenny Walser_ Jack Brownbridge-Kelly_photo credit Oliver Bryant_3

by Fergus Church

It’s a strange thing to hear the sea when you’re 40 odd miles from it, sat on a wooden bench underneath train tracks and footsteps.

A blue tarpaulin. Plastic crates. The stuff of seafarers.

The dampness in the underground air acquires a salty tang.

The high brick walls crag themselves into cliffs embracing a beach.

The sea suddenly feels close.

We are sat around in the half-dark, waiting for something to happen, the tide to come in at dusk.

Then the blueness is unfurled and the waves are lapping at our toes.

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