Indecent Begetters of Tenebrous Brews,

I spent the summer wasting. The time was passed so easily.

Sat upon the brae, indulging in the gratifying sunshine, as much because I like to as of the need to rest, I mulled over nothing and intermittently, planned how to avoid mulling over nothing.

Some smoke emerged from the scrubs. The insipid puffs grew. Long before the flames jabbed higher than the treetops, an almost cyclonic tower of filthy, portentous, bewitching smoke had swirled up and over the cliff edge.

Two men told me that two men had stolen reels of electrical cable – after burning the plastic sheathes, they were to sell the precious copper to the reclamation yard.