Thursday, March 20, 2008

come out þe tired and weary

thin rhombent carcasses scatter the fault lines: it's tea this hour and for perhaps do-so-do ing through about fourteen million years of primate evolution in a lazy few hours on a Sunday afternoon seems about the most copacetic thing you can think of. Maybe with David Attenborough providing the narration of the holographic broadcast. You, er, I have some nice mild tea and the last thin rivulets of the sun are being diffracted by noctilucent clouds. Perhaps there's a crossword style waffle at the inn, or perhaps the small bakery has closed: it's a questionable correspondence in the Suburbane.

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