Enemy, Mine

After three weeks sleety-ass work under the tents at L’Anse aux Meadows, Doc and I had just made a grueling somnambulist fifteen-hour trip Trans-Canada down to St. John’s, where we fell head long into the first harbor-side pub showing any promise of a real bathroom, or warm bake-pot and hot screech.

Collusion Theory

all images thanks to (Bless you Marka)