That was how our wrangler. Spooky Suze described the strawberries. Juicy, ripe and fleshy they proved to be.
Our first "performances" were all smiles, darkness and cheering. Little did we know what lay ahead (well, you don't, do you?)
This close up of an anonymous spookyman shows all too clearly what is possible if you apply yourself to your craft.
We rode into the night. Ghostly figures in a world apart. The man at the desk said he was busy but we could see he was alone. We determined the best course was to wait until he had finished serving the people who weren't there, they having decided to arrive later.
We were given "rooms" and we slept. We knew that we were not alone. The cards were black and impossible to decorate with black ink. We tried. There were tears, but fortunately not ours. The crowd screamed for more, but the road called us. They screamed for more again. No-ingly, we declined. They only stopped screaming when we threatened to take the last one back. We signed their gumboots and left.
The way forward takes us to the ancient settlement of the sage. More will follow.
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