A River of Stones, Day Thirty: Cold War

They have been quietly assembling all weekend; bringing in forces; readying themselves for today’s blitzkrieg. Action all areas. I knew something was up on Saturday. A tickle; a sniff. Then calm. The Phoney War. They were biding their tme; lying up; waiting for the right moment. Now they are everywhere; driving on caterpillar tracks down my throat; crossing the Maginot Line of my vitamins and garlic without breaking stride; billeted in the front of my head; artillery leaning heavy on my eyebrows. Bayonets fixed, they are swarming through the canals of my ears; taking up position in my nose, each rifle round fired, a ricocheting sneeze.