Monday, 10 August 2015


There's something visceral about square one. A knocked out tooth wetly sitting in the palm of my hand. So I'm standing on my little square out in the open, careful not to lean too far out to the left or the right, cradling my little bloody tooth like it's the last good thing I'll ever hold. I've been here too many times, I'm familiar with the landmarks, abyss over there, blank void above and everywhere just a backlit blur with things going on behind the haze but there's something new too. The other square, the one in the middle of that lush lawn over there with the sunlight streaming down on it. The square with paths leading this way and that connected to other busy squares with their own landscapes going on.

This time I didn't parachute myself down on this square, didn't scuba up from the depths to crawl onto it I was just kind of zapped here without warning. Seriously I was skipping along all happy on a path connected to the sunlit square and kablammy here I am with a knocked out tooth and a brand new view. I suppose it's one of those vicissitudes everyone is always talking about.

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