
I separate the mists of time like the Great Jabber Monkey’s own cosmic speculum.
The Fates glare at me as I slowly walk up the gangway: Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos.
“You cannot avoid your destiny,” Clotho says to me, her sea-cap at a jaunty angle.
“No,” Lachesis affirmed. “There is no escape.”
“Arf!” said Atropos, and then piddled on Clotho’s gaberdine cruiseware.
Next Time: A Brassademic
About the Photographer: Toulouse Le Grandfig was a surrealist painter, photographer and writer who never gave up dadaism. Also, he played a mean sousaphone.

Arf! Arf! Grrrrr….arf!
What’s that Atrapos? Timmy’s fallen down the well?
Fallen or pushed?
Well, if it was fated to happen, does it matter …