He was hot, dirty and bloody and barrelling back to his camp, Leaving a battalion of fresh young boys behind him, they weren’t moving anymore. He had murder in his eyes and fire in his breath as he searched for a man soon to have appreciation for the consequences of his decisions, In a tropical paradise, de-evolved.
A meditation on the simplest and most painful journey of my fathers looming mortality
I can’t erase the echoes in the ears of the lynched. And sayin' it's just a good day for a beer and a barbie, but if that was the truth, so would any other day just without the bloody remembrance.
Why do we get caught up in rushing to work, rushing our children off to school, rushing to eat, rushing to fall in love? Life really does give us reminders or opportunities to stop rushing and just let life do what it has to do.