Saturday: Nijmegen Stadsbrouwerij Hemel.

Left after meeting Joep's English mischief and I do play with conker/concur in feeling I know this face from a dream. Black cherries and cream. Some one that would read a short passage and make me smile at her laughing. Joy to make me feel this word game isn't just me me me.

Chapter sixteen is lingering long and I thought I knew I would leave Samson accomplishing that section. On the beach of Magnetic Island(QLD) I can remember a Northern Ireland sweetness hidden bare breasted amongst dunes 1999, as I was in the last throws of Once and Future King. Did fondle her as my manhood rose and I knew there was a reason she was at my feet when the books last page was eclipsed by my seed steaming over her white volcanoes. When next I saw her on Bondi Beach I wanted the same again but I felt undone sharing a mixed dorm, when chance could repeat, and quantities of vodka made me vulgar and pressing, desperate, writhing and too hands on in full glare of peers and leering perverts. This girl was no soft touch. Shame that I was too bold on Bondi Junction. In the morning I puked and sought solace in working amongst the roll wrap in David Jones'.

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