On The Write Path

Comments from the coffin # 3

@ Peach Springs, Arizona.

Who needs a raft when I've got the boat I sleep in, snug-as-a-crypt and certified that it's sealed against intrusion by water, light or the deadly aroma of Greeks cooking Garlic.

I know a white-water guide, said hello to her today. Mandela was wearing a captains hat. The Grand Canyon? What's that. Level 3? Piece of cake, except for those that don't pay attention and do what she says. Their lives are in her hands and she refuses to lose any.

Ah... the Colorado...

No worse than some flights during thunder-and-lightning or a hearse with a bad suspension.

I have motion sickness, even after all these years... Sing it Simon!