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Wednesday 27th September 2017.

The rain came early evening..i was not shocked, saddened, a simple sigh, a thought, here we go again i did not look at those falling drops just felt coldness begin to cover my shoulders a shrug...with a whisper in the mind at least the day was reasonable a shard of sunlight did light up the Manchester basin a gentle breeze broke gnarled leaves from the retreating trees once more beginning to fold into the stance of winters distance in pictured Witches fingers when stripped of all leaves something i thought about one winter  good few years behind me when some pagans would gather in a cabin during the early years of the internet when a one gig Pc..was an awesome creature to ride through the night...so astonishing burning candles into the small hours of the night was a type of peter pan tranquility.. a promise of a new day childlike would buzz into then a yellow screen to see words appear from across the pond with out the use of a rowing boat would cause far to many wow's to crawl behind the wall paper sink into the plaster and become the haunting of Toby Jug with a giggle....Those days long gone..i glance at this white blank screen now, with awe as a mere wimper as an expectant to be there rather than the fingers crossed, fly by the seat of ones pants....as the pc fired up in the stance of an old steam train expecting the great late Johnny Cash to say Boo would not have been a shock...as one avoided the blue screen of death...with such a heavy thump in the soul that all was well in ones own world of tecno..So Goeth....

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bichoose
bichoose

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