Flavigula

Here lies Martes Flavigula, eternally beneath the splintered earth.


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Autumn Dies
Seminole
Displacement
Wed, 21 Dec, 2005 14.00 UTC

I find myself in Seminole, Texas. All is peaceful. All is calm. All is tentively boring. However, I do my best to entertain myself. Amusement is, after all, the greatest reason for being alive.

My plans to visit Austin are thwarted. My parents do not wish to drive me even a meager half-way to the capital city of the state of my upbringing. I am stuck.

So I read. I listen to music. I scribble in my journal. I win $750 at the casino in Ruidoso (where I was with my parents from Sunday until yesterday). I get a haircut. I avoid the television with its contagion.

I fail to find the lyrics to Amarok’s Tierra de Especias on the internet.

Music: Elend - Wind Devouring Men

Along with martens, goulish goats and the rippling fen -
these writings 1993-2023 by Bob Murry Shelton are licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

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