IS ONE OF
my greatest fascinations. It sobers me up, it intoxicates me—in brief, it blows my furry little brain.
To contemplate time is to waste your life for no real answers.
Perhaps, maybe, Fitzgerald had it right all along in his varied interpretations of Khayyam’s ‘Rubaiyat’.
I may well get growled at for violating a
copyright, but it’s all with the very best of intentions—here above is a young lady of modern dimensions; and here below
… is a wee lassie who (even with the best of help from her numerous divinities) passed away several thousand years ago.
So? Ancient Egypt had attractive damsels too, so what? So let’s move deeper into the mire that is Time and see what happens when they meet—
—and ask ourselves, what is the lady on the left saying? What might she say? But certainly to those with eyes to hear and ears to see she speaks loud and clear.
(“Reading you strength five, Ma’am!”)
Here’s where I met them. If you go there have a healthy slug of rum first, shoo the cats off the keyboard and send the missus out to make the coffee or something—
—and perhaps she just may speak to you, too …