White Sands

WHITE MADNESS

Feet bouncing on moonlit sand — whiter than is minerally possible. Shining even brighter, an elongated transdimensional craft comes flying at low speed over the dunes, making repeated passages for our edification. At each sighting JP madly applauds then tries out invented mudras in an attempt to communicate.

Meanwhile down in a sand bowl — in subfreezing temperatures — R has stripped naked and dances to the beat of his drum.