Rants & Raves
January 22, 2018
Late at night we tumble in from the pub, blood up with beer, hungry for destruction and junk food. Cheeks pink with cold, someone lights a fire and we hurl wood and paper into its bright maw, watching it curl and turn to ash. It's not enough destruction. We want to destroy nations beneath our booted heels. Mare Nostrum gets pulled out from the tottering stack of tattered boxes in the corner. There is the sweet, viscous whisper of some sweet liqueur into glasses, promising a sweeter future. In the glow of the flames, we...