Wednesday, May 28, 2008

The Grog

We zipped out of our tents in the morning. The  grog of more than our rationed portion of beer and cigarettes heavied the luggage underneath our eyes. No sounds of people, no traffic, no phones or clocks or responsibilities other than coffee, a leisurely breakdown of camp and the ever increasingly enjoyable "pushing off" again, the trickle of river our morning news.

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