Entrances & En-trances

We could hear the firing range as the breathless little scooter bounced us through crossword potholed path bending round & down to the top steps of a legend. Cerulean stretched still, lined & outward to a razor-edged horizon. Now with the engine off the sounds of heavy altillery acended the cliffs & I looked down & out. Without the words I needed I could but smile & nod at butterflies.


Pulling into a swiftly elongating acring corridoor crawling with living wallpaper dancing dappled of sun gilt & ominous tortishell reflections of retired reef below. There's an unfamiliar bulk, fast & powerful, with no regard for any of us.If a player survives it is only to his own acknowledgement. All other eyes are fixated on the horizon. There may be offhand smiles & curt nods but these niceties seem void of any value amidst the dynamics of another one-take-off-point line up. Some with vicious purpose dismantle vast walls, others paddle deep with hasty ignorance in the hope of picking off a smaller set, effect their brutal demise.

Currency here is nothing less than high performance. I make swift realisation of my poverty, smile at my ambitions for great wealth. There are many many beggars like myself here, but delusion exposes them as fools. I see some, but in this land there appears to be few rich men.

Leave a comment

Please note, comments must be approved before they are published