Postcards From Ecuador

The end dear friend is just the entry and he pointed, but he never meant me, it was the old man sat inside me that the message was intended for. I sat and wondered about the door and what was it the entry for and could it be he meant me after all? Then the timepiece changed into a watchtower and it changed back on the hour, every hour what tricks these eyes can play what puzzles and to blind. In the end I wouldn't mind a new beginning somewhere with a decent climate and slightly South of the equator where I could do a baked potato on the rocks. but don't worry they'll twin you with a town up in the Pyrenees which you'll find out will be full up with the Chinese who'll be making origami chewing gum from Sorghum and reciting verses from a book by ...tse Tung The end is just a fixture another game we play away.