‘I don’t Want Your Fucking Eggs’

2.4.15Westpoint-10 2.4.15Westpoint-122.4.15Westpoint-14 2.4.15Westpoint-11 2.4.15Westpoint-132.4.15Westpoint-15

A sunset.

Clambering about the rocks, trying to shoot a sunset.

Sooty Plied Oystercatcher. Trying to take my eyes out.

Old mate Kelp Gull, he wasn’t too fussed. Croaking lazily as he glided by.

As Sooty tried again to knock me into the briny black.

I spun round. On the edge now. I shoot the red rocks. Not much light left.

I’m screaming. And flailing. It flies clumsy in the wind.

Both of us floundering.

In the black now.

 

 

 

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “‘I don’t Want Your Fucking Eggs’

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s