The last two or three weeks are now just an endless blur of that same old cheap and fatal imperial vodka and a severe amount of storms. These were to result in some hangover enhanced seasickness and a couple of world’s end scares. At one point, perhaps the weekend before last, i awoke after a satisfactory twenty minutes of sleep to a mass hailstone fall, it woke me and three others up at four AM and when i subconsciously stumbled over to the window i realised that something was wrong. I wish looking back that i’d had my camera on me, it’s a shame now that all i can do is swear on it, so i swear that the roofs and trees were barbarous and black, the land was in a miserable sepia wash, and finally, the sky was yellow. Not a dull yellow, nothing like a mustard or anything more desolate. It was almost golden and there was a large blanket of bleak smog cluttering every air cavity in sight. I genuinely thought i may have awoken in year 2,369, world war 5, when pollution had gotten to an stern extremity; where smart little boys would spit sarcastic rhetorical questions in eachtothers pallid faces,
‘Is the Pope Catholic?’
‘Is the sky blue yellow?’
And those are some of the only thoughts i remember thinking in the past month. Maybe not worth posting on here but maybe it’ll entertain someone that i was very much terrified by my time hastening siesta, and fully and falsely believed that i had travelled in time to when the world ceased to occupy any contrast in colour.
