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A few random pages from the book
No turning back, no hesitation. Just one step after another.
From the window I could see the sea rise, while surfers turned on the white foam and were enveloped by the smoky grey waves. I felt sea sick, as if the waves might bear down upon my fragile bones and turn the dust to chalky paste. The house was flimsy, it could have been made of paper and matchsticks. I could feel the swell of the sea, breath within the walls. That house was the fragile embrace around Ashman and I.
I stand barefoot in the grass in my garden paradise and hold my arms outstretched as the sky weeps for the dry earth and drip drop dancers fall in torrents and pit pit patter pit pat percussionists rumble rhythms on the tin roof of my decking. But there’s something else in the air at the moment, thunder and lightning, and I’ve created it. My stomach matches the clouds, both churning, yearning for release and pushing white hot forks of electricity out like the razor sharp tongue of an emotionally charged viper.
Mortars fall
Just about 18
Sirens wail
Sitting in the bunkard
Waiting for an all clear
Over the radio
All you hear is
We’ve got casulties
Head out
to building 128