Saturday, 27 September 2014

Entangled in a Few Tufts

Dozing under a tilted roof I discover raw onions, peppers and pork meat stuck to the ceiling with egg yolk. A curly head walks in, I ask her if it's her food, she says: "no, it's my life".

I sit on a crest top by the sea and watch what looks like crawly spiders, but really is a swarm of little monkeys swimming in the sea.

A person is swimming in the flood as well, entangled in a few tufts of seaweed, dragging all the seaweed along with herself as if she was swimming in a green and tasseled furcoat. Big-shouldered and shaggy; like they are in fashion now.

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