…can be mind-fuckingly pretty when she wants to be. Worked late Friday nite, had a couple of cheap wines at the office and rode home. About 1am stopped at the end of Martin street Brighton for a snack and a drink and looked back over my shoulder. Bay inky black and mill pond still, sky crystal clear but for a few clouds way high up, air crisp and biting cold, lights of the city close like you could touch ‘em…fuckin’ breathtaking.
Here Here Bloke,
Being a country boy at heart (home of big skies and bush fire sunsets) this is hard to admit, though I always thought that Melbz had some damn pretty evenings.
P.S. Goto sleep!