Bark Face

 

 

Last week I found half a bark face during the morning dog walk, and I could not have been happier. What luck!

A Demi-Groot, was my rather obvious first thought, holding the dead wood to my face, the correct way round. Then I thought to check the underside for anything my own face didn't want to rub up against and I was struck by its moist woody beauty. Still damp from the night's precipitation my eyes beheld a proliferation of rich reddy-brown tones and I chuckled to myself, imagining the delight I had in store for Team Ace Jet, on my return.

Alas, what greeted me was apathy³.

And a new thought sprang to mind: What's to become of my shit when I'm gone?

Comments

[Joanne McCrum]

Ach sure, if you go before me I'd love it all. I've been collecting what most people consider junk for many moons now, it'll be right at home :-)