Lifting the lid off the tub of yoghurt, a fleeting sight of what hath fought the fight in the light of the might. To follow the essence of content and a running desire for the cessation of spiders on the skin. Shown here is but only a year running back from today. Hunted are the months beyond.
Feel that chill gear up as two weekends in a row go for long drives off the cliff to neverwhere. Easter 2022 then into ANZAC day. What a time to be waking up a Wednesday thinking it's Friday again. The roads are calling, it's 14 this round. Not for the fortnight.
They walked and walked, at first along tiled and bleakly lit corridors under electric lighting, and then along dusty carpets in dark shuttered places, and up a stone staircase and then further up a winding wooden stair, cloudy with dark dust.2 With each step the landscape unfolded and named itself.3 It was grotesque.4 They were cold and wet, exhausted and bereft.5
We’re at it again with lockdowns being a part of life and a part of something to ignore. Take it out on the empty and busy roads, the case to catch the ride into the afterlife is scattered amongst the leaves. Gurgling red and bubbly between Christmas 2020 and New Years the nation road toll culls 35 across Australia.
Right here in the middle cat's head part of Australia, right near the eye, we walked. And we walked. And we walked. And as we walked we dirtied our hands on the hides of smooth-barked apple gums and shy black sheoaks and we made our way to the meeting of the local of the NCDU. And for the first time in a long time it was OK that our hands were dirty.
Feasting on a whole scene of ditches, Easter 2021 stretches out the COVID-19 leg cramps from the past year to pick up the streaming steam. Back on the roads feeling that perfect night with a clock of 22.
It was a canine interdiction dictated by necessity, when pooches were stripped from cold Muscovite streets, locked into unsafe safety modules, and (depending on how the Scooby Snax landed) blasted into orbital or suborbital orbits.
Lockdowns across the borders and getting low on our own mask juices makes for duller numbers blobbing through the Christmas to New Year break as the national road toll tallies up to 29 across Australia.
Toes curl at the symbol of wanton liability and disregard behind the face mask, its lack thereof. A cover shielding everyone around from how much mouth breathing goes on when gnarly uvulas and canker sores expose themselves in slackjaw.
Sunset closes another holiday and resting period. And five are what ship out over the Easter long weekend as COVID-19 tempers the shattering of taillights. Nobody’s on the roads when nobody’s on the roads.
Wainscoting’s all it is, the contrivance of a façade that confuses, by sheer tyranny of ignorance, the Lord’s blessings for civility.
Ob served pickled ginger to the waiting guests. Being there no food before or after, their palettes were thoroughly cleansed. Neither of the three guests saw one another actually eat the ginger. Yet, ginger disappeared from the plate.
Socks make for essential packing when visiting château Point Prideaux.
Ashes silt the crashes over the course of the Christmas to New Year’s period with the national road toll charring 39 across Australia.