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Bright. Too bright.
Warm. Too Warm.
Ah, winter comes, but not soon enough.
It’s an afternoon, just an afternoon, nothing more,
nothing less.
The flask on the burner stinks quite badly,
emitting a rather foul odour, ah,
what trouble!
Just another task on this afternoon inching it into the more,
but I prefer otherwise, and I’d much
prefer it
in the less.
Ah! It’s burning!
No wonder it smells so foul,
tsk tsk, I tsk
myself again,
I appear to be an amateur!
60 years of alchemy and
I’m still a novice!
I ought to be a bit ashamed,
but why?
I don’t know really,
but I feel like I ought to,
though it oughtn’t matter, I don’t think.
Drats, what was I doing?
Ah!
Yes, mm… ah, here it is!
It appears I need
a dash of chronozymum,
hmm, yes got that,
yes, ermm.. hmm, a bit of hoglily, I certainly do,
and lastly… oh dear, Kilfruit oil! Drat!
Hot. Far too hot!
Yes sir, far too hot to breathe,
far too hot for crowds!
There are so many people,
far too many,
by far too many stinky sweaty vagrants
sloshing and slapping,
intermingling, wrapping,
coiling, themselves in each other’s fluids!
Avert my eyes,
look away,
tear them away
from the slimy and slick and stinky bodies!
No, I won’t have it!
Not have it all!
Refuse!
I’ll simply step here,
oh and here,
skip over that brick,
it looks unsafe,
though why?
I do not know,
I only know that I ought not,
so I oughtn’t.
Aha, I live!
With fanciful footwork
and perfected pirouettes,
I have arrived!
Behold all, Sourtier’s Sourtier!
A befitting name, though why?
Why because,
my good friend Sourtier sourtiers all the sourtres!
Although no, I
cannot say certainly, no, I
haven’t a clue what it means
to sourtier,
though I say, it does befit!
Herbs. Too many herbs!
Kilfruit oil!
I beckon thee,
oh, kilfruit oil!
Where dost thou hide in this menagerie!
Alas, good sir, in this collection of various
sizes, shapes, colours, and
scents, textures, tastes, and
properties, efforts, rates,
where might one,
or two,
or three,
or four,
find kilfruit oil?
Mightn’t you say?!
Say it is not so!
…So?! No!
No,
no,
no!
Damn, it be so! Hm, where?
Down the road?
Left of the cookshop, right of baker?
In front of hm?
Ah, the watchmaker!
Tick tock!
Tick tock!
Agh, that blasted--
Tick tock!
Tick tock!
Stop!
Gah, would you look at the time?!
Each moving hand,
more day
becomes more, and
less day to
be less, which makes
less
more!
Dammit, Sourtier!
Sourtier!
I implore you Sourtier!
You must sourtier
more sourtres!
D a r k. Far too dark!
Only more,
more and
more!
No more!
No more!
No more,
I say!
Agh! To the cookshop,
by the baker,
ah there it is!
It must be!
Hello, madam! I require—
you’re stunning, so stunning in fact,
that I’m too stunned to speak, what can I even say?
What is there to say? To one as beautiful as you, I do not know, may I even be allowed to grace myself in your presence? To bask under your sight?! Madam, may I ask for your hand in—
ah… drats!
Madam, kilfruit oil!
Aha!
Magical!
Marvellous!
Musical!
Masterful!
Miraculous!
Kilfruit oil, I’ve found you now!
C o l d. Far too c o l d!
S h i v e r i n g,
c h a tt e r i n g, and frozen!
Now again,
once more,
I must,
to make the more
less,
and make the less
must.
A dash of chronozymum, yes,
a bit of hoglily too, and lastly, oh yes!
A generous pour of kilfruit oil, now, slowly, yes,
this time! To be sure, slowly,
slowly!
Easy there now! Slowly! Slowly…
ah!
The flask smells quite pleasant, oh yes,
perfect!
Perfect to be!
Take it off heat,
quickly,
quickly now!
Ah,
now its
cold, and the black turns
grey turns
purple turns
brown turns
yellow turns
green turns
blue,
ah! What a beautiful blue,
like the lazy sky blue of
an afternoon,
just an afternoon,
nothing more,
nothing less
than an afternoon.
Ah!
It’s cool, and it smells marvellous!
Drink,
swig,
chug,
slurp!
Slurp it up!
All of it up!
Blue!
Oh, so blue!
As more turns to less and
less into
must,
an afternoon
nothing more
nothing less,
turns into the afternoon,
nothing else,
nowhere else,
just afternoon.
Saye Kamal 