Friday, 15 March 2013

92

This bass tears through everything. And we're still smug as kittens, immovable as bed rock. One dog barks, however, and we're jumping. Hopping even. Ready to melt into livid waters. The transformation is immediate, such is our hatred for dog noise. We have learned that in this town your concerns are ignored. The dog makes its racket night and day. Complaining achieves nothing. Meanwhile, the disco hammers on. The bass shakes our inerds to jelly.  The sirens roar. We should move somewhere less loud. Quiet is out of the question. We walk and walk. He lies to me and I lie to him. In increasingly large circles we move out away from the main roads. In the silent distance of night we lay ourselves down between coconut trees. And I cry on the way home.

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