Lost and found is my eureka! blog, my rediscovery of my short fiction and poetry submissions published in literary magazines and university literary journals some decades ago. Interspersed, occasionally, with more recent, hitherto unpublished pieces.
He is one of Nature's more delicate of warm-blooded creatures, supremely entitled, he believes, to excesses of kind consideration.
Of especial concern to him are several matters of outstanding expectation, chief among them his creature comforts and, of course, his board.
His very small body finds supreme discomfort in the awkward vicissitudes of weather, as neither excess of hot nor cold provide a suitable nor appreciated environment.
As for food, whose fragrance and enticing sight he cleaves to with undying devotion, his tiny pink tongue and brisk, white teeth particularly adapted to dispatch, he has charged us to provide.
It is abundantly clear to this small creature who deigns to share with us a living space, that divine providence supplied our presence to him for the singular purpose of serving his needs well and truly. We strive to excel.
The colour of the day has been absorbed in its entirety by the brooding mood of a sky capped resolutely by battered, dark clouds extruding a dense, dark curtain of unending rain. Forests bristling with the black shapes of trees bared for winter; humped mountain silhouettes in the dark atmosphere. A howling wind bursts the neatly drenching curtain spewing a horizontal sea of conquest over the land, cowering in muddy acquiescence, urgently placatory, attempting conciliatory overtures, as the battle of the rain titans engulfs reasonable accommodation and the world settles into a state of miserable agony where wind-blasted hurricane-gusts of rain dance in the dark atmosphere of wicked collusion.
We are helplessly credulous innocents submitting to the faith of belief; black can be white, the fantastic credible, and illusion stark reality.
This is not an obverse universe, but the rational one that science explicates while the emotional world of psychic need that trust-addled humans fallibly inhabit limps us into the future.
The tumult of uncertainty in our spirits seeks assurance for our sadly wan existence.
Our original equipment inherited at the birth of the species still resonates. Primeval humankind learned survival techniques as the primary imperative. Those that prevailed, claiming scarce resources, survived to leave their genetic advantages to an unbroken line of successors, and in turn practising the winning formula for succession through oppression, denial of equality and opportunity. To those victors most certainly went the spoils and for them life was good and as it should be. Not quite so for the far less advantaged by Nature's generosity. Their struggle, their survival continues vexingly, against the odds of disadvantage. Bigotry, xenophobia, racism, persecution of castes, class and gender, and the visceral misery of oppression of the meek by the bold and the mighty continue to reveal Nature's mischievous mystery.