No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing. At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket…


“My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.”

Dunkirk Fires: One Year On

Article originally posted on The Digital Warehouse, our Medium blog for all things Calais and beyond, and is a rehash of Up in Flames, my post on the fires from this time last year.