corpus christi today, the feast and not the town, not the boat.
no work, stay up late last night and sleep on today. The son is up and about, making coffee, his passion in the morning. He drinks it normal strength from an espresson cup.
Turn off and switch off the tubular snorter, the wind machine, the compressor
Roll to the right hand side, pull up the knees. Foetal position now, the knees are over the edge of the bed. Straighten out the legs now, and the feet are over the edge with the knees. Straighten the arm, push down on the bed and lever the body vertical. The feet hit the floor, no strain for the old back, then straighten the knees.
Transformered from prostrate to vertical, mechanical.
and off to the bathroom, to satisfy the most urbane of needs.
The sitting room with its two pianos is filled with light from the risen sun, the sun up since four, the sound of the heavy tolling bells of saint martins church over the town, filling the room through the empty windows.
corpus christi, and the rumble of car tires on the cobble stones.
The sound of the organ and the choir audible in the distance.
"The believers calling me in my unbelief"
And the one from Braga, not praha, stories of disaster and healing. Read the story in the morning.
no work, stay up late last night and sleep on today. The son is up and about, making coffee, his passion in the morning. He drinks it normal strength from an espresson cup.
Turn off and switch off the tubular snorter, the wind machine, the compressor
Roll to the right hand side, pull up the knees. Foetal position now, the knees are over the edge of the bed. Straighten out the legs now, and the feet are over the edge with the knees. Straighten the arm, push down on the bed and lever the body vertical. The feet hit the floor, no strain for the old back, then straighten the knees.
Transformered from prostrate to vertical, mechanical.
and off to the bathroom, to satisfy the most urbane of needs.
The sitting room with its two pianos is filled with light from the risen sun, the sun up since four, the sound of the heavy tolling bells of saint martins church over the town, filling the room through the empty windows.
corpus christi, and the rumble of car tires on the cobble stones.
The sound of the organ and the choir audible in the distance.
"The believers calling me in my unbelief"
And the one from Braga, not praha, stories of disaster and healing. Read the story in the morning.
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