Road Trip

Thank you Lindley.

https://youtu.be/lnPDPMgSFG8

Holy smokes. Any version of three is worth following.

https://youtu.be/pgY7qYaoMWQ

https://genius.com/The-alan-parsons-project-the-turn-of-a-friendly-card-part-one-lyrics

https://youtu.be/6DVu9vF5J3Y

And in the jaded blues of Phantasmagoria, where St Elmo’s Fire sparked phoenix fuelled flame coloured purple sprites above the deep shadows under tired eyes, she remained focused on the road ahead. A light shone on her number plate, shining like diamonds on a sharp black liturgy paten, offered up like sacrament to an invisible congregation, the number plate read, TRUTH.

The headlights of another car, keeping its distance behind her, hidden, followed like a shark hunting its prey, and all the pigeons fluttered around it in the darkness the cloaked vehicle trailed, their caterwauling war cries like neopolitan mafia, they were all now slowly transfiguring into sqauwking crow-eyed seagulls, pterodactyl winged, beaks and tallons bleeding canards and words cutting open their cool disguise, flying monkeys gripping blunt sharp knives pulling their own quills. Foot to the floor, she pursued the only number that mattered and keeping her eyes on the three snow white doves ahead of her, hand on the shaft, she accelerated out of third gear, through 4th and into the 5th.

“A poet is a nightingale who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” Percy Bysshe Shelley