Tuesday 24 November 2015

The Cold Bones.

all that remains

Cold bones!

I beg your pardon?

Cold bones, look at it.

What?

The moon. It’s one of those nights.

One of what nights?

A night when you could die.

We can all die, at any time – what exactly are you alluding to?

It’s freezing!

I don’t need you to tell me this.

It’s hot in Australia.

We’re not in Australia.

Someone is.

This conversation is ridiculous.

It’s always ridiculous, that’s why we do it – it’s absurdist art.

It’s not art it’s just absurd, sunshine.

By the way – did you notice the picture of the inside of H.Q?

I did – it looks nothing like the outside. (editorial note t)

That’s because we moved.

We did, no one told me.

You were asleep.

I’d better go out and have a look around.

Be careful – you’ll catch a death. The sky is open, crystal clear. Frost lays heavy underfoot and overhead there’s a cold bones moon.

It’s almost full.

Tomorrow I believe – we have already received the Full Moon Memo from the good folk at Full Moon Info inc. It included a nice homely on the contrast in our lives between being overworked, overwhelmed and over-indulging and on the other hand never having enough time, and under-achieving.

It will kill you.


Cold Bones.

No comments: