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.

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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