Retrospective in Occupied
BTC 20: Winding up and down with clowns in town
Eighteen into nine with a dash of seven hours makes for twitchy eyes and wobbly knees waiting on the train station home. Movement and the phoenix reborn done and forever no more, a class task breaking no one save for their ability to render whole a week of slumber.
All hands to the bridge
Quiet on the range and quiet on the counterside leads into furry shifts of comics and action figures and merchandise. Levels, shelves, sections and compartments looking for order with chaos bearing down on its back. Late night turns midnight with the blaring of acid and house music over the radio.
Sinking in the mire, a little pep breathes the final rush into the head long spear with classical and opera waving the air. Activities of an obscenely early morning four of the clock renders any chance to knock the pillow on contact a trial of terror.
On the battlefield proper
Mere hours later, wired from the hustle, the hectic rush and onslaught of lines and pockets of people rolling in through the doors. Breaks the face without a chance to skitter behind the mask of identity.
Sneaking into the afternoon is time with a clue to suit up once again long into the rest of the night. Running around in super hero costumes is one thing. Sharing advice, pointers and tips in wearing the muscles another level entirely.
Cooling with the easing breeze
Saturday gone and the flow trickles back to a sense of Sunday calm. Up on the traffic nonetheless, the cover against opens the chance to once more bring back the face.
True to form of a mirror to the back, end game creeps mighty fast amid the conversations and closing remarks.
Soon Van - Sunday, August 27, 2006 - 23:53
Thoughts...
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