“No. Austin ain’t in the desert” The taxi driver shouts, over a half open window. “Oh. I told my daughter I was going to the desert. She asked me to take a picture of a camel for her.” The taxi driver laughs as the night air is sucked into the car. “I told her there weren’t any…
2
Through the eyes of myself I watch this unfold. And each day splits, to form another morning
It was late when we arrived. I got out of the car and looked up at the house. Distant smoke in the wet air. Thick with rain. There were trees all around…
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Notes From The Zetland