Every Journey Begins
Every journey begins with a single step, every story with a slogan or a cliche, every step towards redemption down a narrow clifftop path. These moments, these movements in the ether of things, protected by spirits, exposed for all to see, a frightening circumstance, an addict in the house, the fridge full of dents where he had attacked the fridge, broken pieces here and there. Where did it end? This Satanic ritual? How could the country's leaders be so indifferent to the fate of the citizenry. Everything was roiling downwards. There was little money about, pockets of prosperity, mostly just pockets of middle class survival while the rest scrabbled and shrank into some bloodstained quiet, for these were killing machines, this quiet despair, these indifferent politicians, the armies of useless bureaucrats destroying the country one form at a time. An encroachment on decency. While in Oak Flats everything shrank, just like in the rest of the country. A bankrupt country, their...