Sunday 27 March 2005

Itchy Feet

Bath salts melt into the water like cigarette smoke evaporates into the air. Slow curling whispers.

The exertion of gardening is apparent in the muscles of my back. A slow weekend has left me craving excitement. To see a wider horizon, drive on different roads, in new scenery, meet other people, listening to foreign sounds.

The vapour trails of jet planes criss crossing the skies draws my eye away from my daily routine. Oh for a journey that doesn't have a defined destination. Oh to feel hot sand between my toes and swim in warm water. To drive open roads, across the landscape of movies. To have awe. To be breath taken.

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