47 Random Fragments of Unauthorised Hope and Despair


CROWS called a timeless shiver into the misty silence.

Grey puddles, bare winter clearing with ancient concrete roadway silted with mud.

The beauty of monochrome crafted with subtle shades of lushest brown and blackest green.

Calm. Peace. A moment to live in.

Until the Transglobal Supajet from New Beijing murdered the morning with its decibel-deafening descent into Brighton International.

Another door to the sacred is slammed shut in our face.