17th April 1671

My eyes awake to honey coated skylines and peppermint clowns teaching animals to sing, there is an awareness in me now, a feeling of place and time holding me to the spot like rags on  barbed wire fences. I count faces in clouds and smile when spiders try to steal my legs. I have seen such things which amount to nothing and envied youth which crumbles to dust. A man on stilts asks me to follow him and I think of nothing better to do. 

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