{"id":2826,"date":"2012-07-11T12:00:55","date_gmt":"2012-07-11T12:00:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=2826"},"modified":"2012-07-09T15:22:25","modified_gmt":"2012-07-09T15:22:25","slug":"mark-fewtrell","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/mark-fewtrell\/","title":{"rendered":"Mark Fewtrell"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: left;\" align=\"center\"><strong>A lie must not advertise itself.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: left;\">Dreaming a word I woke: Encomium? There was no one about and I looked. Maybe I was grateful for waking from sleep again or just from sleep. A fool&#8217;s freedom. Both. All. Time now looked like a door. But behaved like a vacuum. Still the consequences were the same. Or were they? I peered through the keyhole. It was shaped like an elephant. I slipped through even though I&#8217;m not. This was a door going places. Low and behold an elephant. &#8220;Will you do me a favour?&#8221; &#8220;That&#8217;s why I&#8217;m here.&#8221; It was seamless. The beast melded with the door which nettled a little then melted to the floor and I was gone. Back to sleep. The pages of the book revoked. The Earthquake came as if it on a list of things to happen. <em>First &#8220;Encomium&#8221; and now this.<\/em> It was smaller than the elephant at first and not as helpful. I was only aware we were not in a sweet spot on looking out across the ocean from the roof of my house a dolphin looked me in the eye and not the town I\u2019d known. I thought of Dorothy. Would I be set down? Unfounded I stray somewhere off British Columbia. A long time dead. In time my bones deranged by seagulls.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Mark Fewtrell<\/strong> has been messing with words since he was a baby. Blogs at <span style=\"text-decoration: underline;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/mark-wackjob.blogspot.co.uk\">http:\/\/mark-wackjob.blogspot.co.uk<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A lie must not advertise itself. &nbsp; Dreaming a word I woke: Encomium? There was no one about and I looked. Maybe I was grateful for waking from sleep again or just from sleep. A fool&#8217;s freedom. Both. All. Time now looked like a door. But behaved like a vacuum. Still the consequences were the [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2826","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2826","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2826"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2826\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2831,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2826\/revisions\/2831"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2826"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2826"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2826"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}