Thursday, March 02, 2006

Trying to remember the words of that old song they used to sing in the evenings at Woomera

Nothing to do but think; and when thinking fails, it's usually a freefall float into the past, where most of my life has been spent, and where the Tunnock's Teacake of opportunity sits forever wrapped in the tinfoil of desire.

Difficult now, of course, to even remember her name.


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