Fiction & Poetry, Poetry
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Escape

Written by Luke Bailey

I want to go for a drive. But I can’t, I don’t own a car. I want to sit behind the wheel and blast my way down a motorway. In any direction so long as it’s away. But I can’t, there’s a pandemic raging. 

I want to lose myself to the music blaring out of tinny car speakers, as I leave everything behind me. But I can’t.

I could just get up, right now as I write this, and go. I could disappear off the face of the earth for a week. Or more. But I can’t. My housemate would worry. I can’t just disappear. 

I wish I could drive as far as possible, and then still keep going. Driving until I am hidden in the midst of the Scottish Highlands. I would be untraceable, uncontactable. I would be free. Just a few days without the constant pressure pushing me back down. But I can’t. 

I could immerse myself in books and music and the beauty of the wilderness. I could walk among the trees and the hills until I was so lost that not even google maps could show me the way back. I would truly disconnect, from everything,and forget this awful year. 

But I can’t. 

So now I’ll put down my pen and forget this wish ever held me.


Luke Bailey is a final year History student, usually found struggling to fit playing around with guitars, writing and uni work into the day. You can find him on Instagram here

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