Ravings for Remedies

A strange mist descended upon Mafeking as a slight rain drifted the paddock. In the passing glare a ghostly smear of laneway lights struck like the fingers of winter and as it tore across the field, a gale blasted a chill throughout. Yet, here amongst bush scrub and soaked eucalypts, something had changed in me. Memories of flames and the eyes within, simplicity, attraction: love. The fires still burn in campsites, but the warmth is gone, as with the faces; I scarcely remember any. Here, in this lonely chill, I feel the tide of Rovers ebb away from me and I can no longer hold any vestige of what once was and that my heart aches for what is missing.