Walkabout

1543_t2

It began as a penal colony. No. That is not entirely accurate. As far as the history books were concerned, it began as a penal colony. It was an isolated mass of land where criminals could be put out of sight, and thereby out of the minds of those who had been wronged by their acts. In truth, it had existed long before the pragmatists devised a purpose for it.

Like all continents, it had already served as a home for many. In an effort to bring justice to the land, unjust men laid waste to the native inhabitants. Blood had been spilled onto sandy soil where little of value might grow. These rational minds — progressive thinkers and planners for their time — sought to sow seeds that would bare fruits of ill fortune. Strange, then, that such a blossom of staggering beauty had managed to grow from all of that pain and suffering. Continue reading

And We Will Compose A Symphony

It was a dream, and nothing more. My mind has been running laps while I try to call upon slumber, and by the time I awaken in the morning it is as though I have not slept at all. I’m used to not feeling rested, which does not make peace of my condition. No. In fact it worsens it. But last night…

Sleep found me quite readily, but it had come with such expediency I had no idea the reality through which I stumbled was a dream — a play put on by the troupe of my imagination which has cut its teeth on many pondered thoughts and aching desires over the years. What a performance it was. Continue reading