NovPAD Day 5 – “Peril”
it’s after we take the crossing, the truck’s yearn and grind this fat brown river its sucking flow, eddying and dark it’s soon after that we see him on the track motorbike hang-dog by his side hail-pocked and limping he tells us of a nimbus swarm sudden and inimitable between those (hand points) red breasts of desert; darkness arrived like a train heaved in between lightning forks that stung and stung and disappeared; etched purple memories - a crayon’s rub that faded into night’s pile its outrage pelted his shoulders insulted his prostrate frame he heard screaming, like the ground itself was aching and saw the whiplash of the trees and we're thrown into his story: he and his motorbike plaster headed and broken while the sky caves in
Out of the Cave 
Crikey – this is * good*.
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