Fly


3.18.15.NT-2 3.18.15.NT-3 3.18.15.NT-4 3.18.15.NT-5 3.18.15.NT-7 3.18.15.NT-6

 

I crossed into the Northern Territory and things got greener.

Fresh out of the wet. It was looking lush.

Open limits on the road had me shooting high beams as I flew down towards the next roadhouse at sunset. I prayed a roo or a cow didn’t stroll into my path. I had to get away from the flies.

 

The flies.

So thick I was breathing them in wherever I stopped.

I’m getting used to them now.

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