Song!

Still mucking about with this one.

Receiver (26th June 2008, 12.34pm) Your eyes, fragile blue, wilting over a frozen smile, lips locked in anger, unable to alter. You can’t, quite, bring yourself to move,

Ex-stranged (26th June 2008, 10.30am) As I look at you, I cannot imagine doing those things we used to behind closed doors; the urge is gone to rid you of your clothes

The plains once wild & strong, Are scarred, cut deep with roads.

too many 'answers' - not enough questions maybe

Mr. Feeney yawned and looked around the room. It was time for coffee. He pressed the required buttons and the machine creaked into action, pouring steam out under the little Perspex hatch.

Weak shadows moving up shallow trenches angry fists beating the anvil earth