Nudge from internal nosing into different categories, I mean, there must be some form of elaborate label with sprinkling hue alert banners beyond extremely edgy immediate attention to even one whose mind, and at one point on the cerebral compass that curved nail long finger might be awful accusative in its indignant irascibility at the enigmatic person writing about how the mind can be compartmentalised in such graphic detail where items whose pale grey area genesis would be as likely to perplex into deep wisteria looping wells of puzzlement. 

Personalities abound but where are they and do they have any personality as in a blaze script.

One wonders  in a dazed state of rippling lip smirks at this junk shop which is cluttered yet devious scheme cluttered with books about books and ornate scroll pages inside faint mouldy stain strewn pages.

Even cherry blossom wood sideboard cabinet.

Somewhere to be found junk in a remote building 

at the far edge of one of those spots in any town of some renown that occupies only minuscule space on a gaudy grandiose relief map that’s a relief to have fancy title gobbledegook appointee expert interpret with its gadget generated referenced points that would bog down those brainiacs whose legendary focus defies limits.

This segment of town which is almost  its own fog mist and haze as the dusty steam curves wickedly upwards as a rebuff to the glare.

In the sense of bemused passersby whose urge to peep slyly might be repulsed by the macabre surroundings.

The mind can be sectioned like an old hutch.

Partitions can be built up, moulded, refashioned, skyscraped 

tower blocked, astounding to perceive yet frightening in its gargantuan stoic steadfastish fixedness.

The dominant fugues in that quaint place may seem obscure and almost inchoate.

As the mind can capture and compartmentalise the golden garlands of sunshine nuggets that bounce of legendary tiered hue rivers and their sinusoidal detours that wend and weave as if impelled by the silent imprimatur of a riveting Earth orbital spin that is merrily muted though still only to an inert dalliance.

Dedicated to my most wonderful sister

Jay A Pallen who made this extract possible