Whereby Bron has a kip and Leo chucks out all meaning. The drawing to accompany the text https://www.instagram.com/p/CHY_ZdWHwkz/?igshid=jjw5j2ju2f7f
‘Indeed as I have said and with profuse and lavish expression many times attempted to convey this effect of meaning or should I say lack of meaning in the sense of a grafted meaning. That is the superimposition of objects let us say, upon the point - the point - or as they say sushchnost - or firshka - essence. By writing this new language free of all assumed, projected, interpretive, valid, and ultimately deferred meaning. Ha ha.’ And he coughed into his sleeve. ‘Indeed and what then is it unless a music. A virtual music a buzzing, thrashing, chewing and coughing language of pure sense init?’ Bron tossed her hair to the side as she attempted to drop the visor of her helmet - however quickly abandoned the idea and lifted clear the helm and threw it down carelessly on the short turf at her feet. ‘We’ll camp here don’t you think?’ Leo dismounted and led his white horse to the clump of trees. It started to rain. They built a fire from cones and twigs. Leo stretched the awning of blue cloth between the pine trunks creating an area around the fire free of drips and drops. They drank the wine from the skin and ate raisins and apricots, bread, oil and salt with the toasted cheese. Then they sang. Then they slept. Then rose and rode across the ridge in the pale lilac light that seemed to emanate from the smaller of the two suns in the sky. The ground was brittle and covered with a pattern of crystalline plant-like objects that appeared to creep very slowly across the ground. They reached the ship after a decent time and boarded the deep crimson craft leading the horses up the ramp gently calming them with subtle hands and cooing and soft low whistles. They zoomed up and headed towards the big blue crystal glittering mountains and canyons they planned to explore before lunch. Looking down they marvelled at the sinewy streams of mauve and the viridian and ochre fields slipping hundreds of feet beneath them. At last they came to the pewter valley of crusted And crumbling towers where the green bottle folk stood about trembling and clinking in the dewy glens of metallic and virdigris dust. ‘Ha ha’ laughed Leo as he eyed the glinting necks of the glassy people below them. ‘We can land here and decant and mingle with the locals, as they seem friendly’. ‘Mmm, you can, I’m stopping in gonna finish that nap and feed the hosses. Mind out for the ladybirds around here,, I think they bite’ Thank you, Simone Sent from my spyphone
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