Neo-Ophelia slunk into collective memories’ dry catchment. Diverted by blue (anti) signs, Ipswich Road rusts shut boom gates to national service Hades. The sharp- shooter’s trajectory veers in his mind’s eye, plastic endures, shell casings slap recollection on the shoulder. Brass manikins inherit our space after we’re gone for sixteen months.
How much memory do (you) have?
Build a driver database for newspaper crime. Beaumont, Cobby, Milat, Bryant. Details of a new search hound the truth. Lunches & counter lunches untouched on Marie Celeste.
All victims are forgiven in time.
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