Sunday 29th March 2026

I'm off to Oxford tomorrow,  being picked up at Brown Street carpark.

But first here's somthing i wrote for mum. It's called one day.

I keep thinking about it…

not now—

but one day.

One day

you’ll just be a picture in a frame,

smiling the same smile,

never growing older…

while everything else does.

One day

you’ll be a memory

that lives only in my head,

and nowhere else.

And I’m scared—

I’m really scared—

that one day

I’ll forget the sound of your voice.

Like… how do you hold onto something like that?

How do you keep a voice

from fading?

One day

I’ll walk into a room

and it’ll be too quiet.

One day

I’ll be on my own

in a way I’ve never been before.

One day

I’ll catch myself

looking at your chair—

and it’ll just be…

a chair.

And that thought—

that moment—

it terrifies me.

Because one day…

you won’t be here.

But today—

today you are.

You’re still here,

still talking,

still laughing,

still filling the room

like you always do.

So maybe today…

I listen a little more.

I stay a little longer.

I memorise the sound of you

while I still can....