Intersections

The vacuous warehouse space spun into a blur of faded colour. Soft focus. The edges bleed together with grueling disillusion. A blank stare glimpsed in rear-view. The scarred concrete spills by in a drunken loop. The chalkboard screech of steel on pavement. A dead-weight thud onto the conveyor. A bleat of over-zealous horn through a roller-door. The somnambulist moves levers in a mechanical fugue. An automaton reflex of pedals, hydraulics and shifting functions. The swoop and snatch of metal talons. The shrink-wrapped prey is hoisted into the barreling reaches of the industrial maw. A dust laden breeze coats the skin and nasal passage with fine layers of grit. A mucous of black boot strings. The sweeping and majestic waltz of heavy machinery, beautiful for an unrecognisable moment, returns to a resting state of chaotic autonomy. A gloved hand moves steadily around the wheel. Rear tyres shuffle upon a dusted surface. The hard clank of tines on concrete. Hyena laughter and yelps in the distance. The rear-view eyes flicker wearily. A barrage of rigid's and semis mow the yard throughout the shift, upon a backdrop of time-lapse clouds, frenetic worker ants and hyper-activity. Halogen lamps cast schizophrenic shadows. The pillars of hierarchy march with authority and personalised high-viz apparel. A pack teeters on the brink, balancing on a perilous precipice. The mechanical animal takes another bite and normality resumes. The alien chatter of birdsong in the rafters. The distant roar of a nearby motor artery. The gelatinous melt and reformation of cloud-cover. The thump of pallet and boot on hard floor. A polystyrene cup rolls like tumbleweed with a gentle and hollow tap-tap-tapping. The incomprehensible static of walkie-talkie chatter. A yawn in the rear-view, momentarily swallowing the minds bucket of undigested thoughts. The sun is quickly chased away by the moon, with the disjointed echo of children’s nursery rhymes. The tyre treads criss-cross a non-linear path in a linear direction. Grease coats the rams and mast, dripping intermittently and mingling like blood and dust. The clock hands spin into oblivion. Countless fluoro-coloured souls and all is empty. The concrete shore and stream swim passed.