Die Fliegende Ferringer

Back To Brutality

Look After The Meters..and The Miles Will Look After Themselves

Morning Canter

Old Rues

The forbidding gunmetal grey blanket of cold forged cumulous that I had prayed  would be lined with Stellar Gold  long before my senses were roused by realty’s next targeted  torrent of ambient alerts that yet more  domestic micro errands awaited my merciful attention, had instead merged with a dense shroud of maritime mist that provoked Shoreham Harbour’s fog horn to wind its mournful monophonic warning to any stoic sailors still willing to brave/trawl the treacherous and ferociously contested waters around Britain’s crumbling coastline, for a fresh catch sizable enough to sustain their modest  livelihoods, whilst hoping that flocks of health conscious herring gulls, keen to supplant their heredity   Southern American diet with a nutritious “raw food” alternative had not already fished them to virtual extinction.

Meanwhile, from somewhere deep within this mildly precipitous pea souper, echoed the muted rumbles of sky worthy ferries, winging payloads of lapsed Staycationers from bleak old blighty to costa Paradiso, whose rogue silver wakes had morphed into shadowy serpents that slithered through a spectral tapestry of mackerel scales and herringbone veils, forming a Technicolor negative cloudscape.

From dim but far from distant, yet not quite total recall , I endured two moderate drubbings during direct and evasive Westbound slogs along my home town’s omni-seasonal training Mecca, employing both motorised and mortal traffic bridges to traverse the River Adur’s silty banks and in the latter instance, gave broad berth to an excitable border terrier and busking saxophonist counting his hard earned stash of cash and returning several stacks of unsold CDs to his shabby chic rucksack.

I should note that these two sentient creatures were not affiliated even though the use of pets to garner swifter attention from passing pedestrians and win favour from any who might have a preference for songs of a different genre is commonplace amongst countless communities of street musicians worldwide, whilst for collaborative acts, exceptionally vocal breeds such as the Hamilton Hound or Siberian Husky are more than partial to a spot of K9 karaoke.

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Ed "Cleatless" Ray

Old Rues

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Die Fliegende Ferringer

Back To Brutality

Look After The Meters..and The Miles Will Look After Themselves

Morning Canter

Old Rues

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