Morphing

George and Caytlin and Melody and Hayden, once my closest friends, once my caravan-mates, with whom we went the whole stretch of South Island in the cold, now become strange people, with nothing to say between us, and the silence between us being drawn out like an elastic string threatening to collapse upon itself anytime now.

Whose fault is it?

Now it is Dino and Sara and Klein and Kimi who are my closest comrades, and tomorrow it may be Carol and Mike. The problem is me. I change face, I morph and become something else every day. Hurtling through tall grass on Canterbury marshlands like a beast without any idea of who he is and where he is going.