Ruined house, Gladesville.
“The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail. Travel too fast, and you miss all you are traveling for.” — Louis L’Amour
Chaplain’s House, Rozelle.
“He walked on the Embankment once under a dark red sunset. The red river reflected the red sky, and they both reflected his anger. The sky, indeed, was so swarthy, and the light on the river relatively so lurid, that the water almost seemed of fiercer flame than the sunset it mirrored. It looked like a stream of literal fire winding under the vast caverns of a subterranean country.” — G.K Chesterton
Blast furnace, Lithgow.
Just finished proofing the text for my short story The Violin, from which the title of this post is derived. It will be included in the 2012 Short and Twisted anthology from Celapene Press which I believe will be out around June.
“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” — Mark Twain
Bowling green, Rozelle.
“All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost.” — J.R.R Tolkien.
Fly, St Leonards.