Feck Feck Feck Feck Feck

Just had another fruitless conversation with the police.  There is a
shortage of magistrates in Suva and my burglar’s case will not be heard
until next year some time.  No possibility of getting my stuff.  Feck. No camera.  Feck, Feck Feck.
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About Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
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