E. called up at an unearthly hour. Turns out he'd tumbled from his cloud into the waves below; 'twas all I could do to pull him out of the murky depths, albeit into the same solitary boat as I.
Enough amateur allegory for today. Been keeping mum about a lot of things lately---Not least the secrets people keep unceremoniously dumping on me. Do I really look like the priest at the other end of a confession booth? Give me some respite, you cretins! Guh.
I call it "Gossamer Melancholy". Not the most poetic of titles, I know. In fact it kinda reminds me of the (insert acronym here) scan they use to look at 4-month-old foetuses, 'cept this one's in glorious technisepia. Sorry for the blurrity; I don't have tripod la. ==
theunfallengazers
8 years ago
