August 7, 2020


Heptameron. Decameron. The Deluge at Nordenay.

We need tell no stories for the waters do not rise.

(But I wish I could tell S of the swathes of white foam, that morning, moving in wide, serial arcs across the tram tracks at the Elizabeth Street crossing, slow and inexorable, like the tide coming in on the beach.)

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walkholdhands On my way back from lunch the other day I passed some schoolchildren being taken to visit the Indian Heritage Centre, and they were walking in a