Monday, 8 February 2010
Too much to do – too little time
A Great Grey nuzzles the gunwales of this little craft. I paddle balefully to stay afloat. My sails have long been in tatters, my oars careworn. Still the massive spectre circles closer, rasping its inquisitive hide against my skin as its lidless eyes scrutinize, seeking weakness. I cannot sleep in the wake of its thrashing tail, or the yawning gape of avarice will snatch its final reckoning.