Wednesday 16th December



Caught the eye of a lusty pork pie watching me stumble under
the weight of excess thinking, across the market square before
opening.The phone at my ear twitters gibberish. I stubble,
drowning in words. Thoughts stutter & snap. Nothing makes
sense, no recognisable patterns. Nothing to grasp, no dimension,
no gravity. I loose balance, fall through the hole in the doughnut.
Wedged into a doorway, breathing. The pork pie watches
dispassionately, snuggled smug, beach body bronzed, between the
glistening torsos of it’s fellow catwalk pastries.


3 thoughts on “Wednesday 16th December

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