Stranded in Burma – Dead Deer

Stranded in Burma

Hands shaking, head cracking, bones creaking, vomit rising, ears bleeding, now, this is now. Movement, always movement. Striding, stumbling, wading, waddling, wandering, wondering. After the movement, the mystery. Why, how, what, always, when, where, who, not so much.

I stand, here I stand, I do not move, I block out thought. Still movement, all around, a dog idles by, a cyclist zips past, clouds rush onwards, here comes the storm, rain falls, lightning rips through the sky. And I? I stand. Here I stand. Nowhere to go, no one to tell, nothing in my hands.

Drenched, I stand, I breathe, I hold out my arms. I am here, here I stand.



Yes, I move, I walk, I am walking through streets of Nay Pyi Taw, you wonder, as I wander. Why am I here? When did I come? What am I doing? What have I done? What will I do? Why am I stuck? Here. Here I am.

my an mar


Today I wrote between 15:21  and 15:31. I was prompted by an idea here. My other writings here. All my prompted writing here, my tweets here, and my book here.


If you enjoyed this short writing, a whole load more are available in paperback, and kindle editions in your local Amazon site

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