Railway debris, decades of decay. It's funny. Like driftwood, parched plastic, piercing binliners, endless bramballs. Gladly this is history with a warmth, a snug smile winks, time inside plastic shrinks. Sadly the endless laptop shells scream the other extreme- tons of tired screeching days distilled into thinning air. Lost data, retrieved data all imbued with false hope. Was there ever happiness therein? Even the most treasured were replicas.
The kinder man who offered himself was suddenly smiling at a schoolgirl- she was reciprocal and I mention that she moved her skirt up and down slightly and of her acne.
No comments:
Post a Comment