The journey home starts in golden, grey mizzle crawling along in a slow queue of traffic. To one side the sky is pitch black, to the other pink and purple as the storm gathers.

The radio crackles and the sky lights up as the lightening forks across it. The stop start queue of traffic is tiring after a long day and I flick the radio from station to station trying to find something to take my mind from the events of the day.

One motorway bends slowly into the other and the queues drag on. Above me the sky is black and low, around me the rain is heavier. In the rear view mirror the road and sky blend into one. The darkness engulfs me.

It’s oppressive and somehow sums up the days I have now.

I drive on, automatically following the road I have driven so many times, muscle memory turning the wheel, taking the car around every bend.

Ahead of me the colour turns from black to blue and on the horizon the sunset warms the sky.

Perhaps it’s me but it seems to sum up life at the moment. Driving home, away from storm.