Friday, January 26, 2018

Time He Flexes Like a Whore

Photographer unknown


Perhaps the colour or angle of sunshine on the short strip of dirt road separating the lakeside development from the industrial area was trigger.
Yellow, late afternoon, January.
Something in the configuration of the moment took him back to his homeland.
Not that the term homeland had any influence on him, Akla had dropped those shackles when he’d left.
But this flash in the pan was a pleasant sensation, unlike its twin on the other end of the wormhole that led back 40 years when the nausea of that déjà vu had brought him close to vomiting.


Tales for an attention deficit world

Title is of course from Bowie's Time.
I left the dash/comma out so that it is Time itself that is being flexed - sorry Dave

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