Ludolf Backhuysen, Ships Running Aground In a Storm

The sea was angry that day my friends. The sky was cloudy as our president’s judgement, dark as his rule. The rain, like a million tiny silver hammers of Maxwell, came down upon my head. Life, as it has a nasty habit of doing, had intervened on behalf of misery, and served me a summons. There was nothing to be done, this trip on choppy seas had to be made.

05.19. filed under: life. personal.

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