Wet Shaving Database

New Mexico 1947, Small Town Carnival - A calliope riffs in the background, ungrounded as the untamed notes whirl like sand devils drifting, unguided into the twilight. There is an energy, a pulse, an electricity to the smokey, dusty, active arid air...a charge, a mystery, a secret.Miles outside the town limits an event takes place, a mingling of space and time, a blurring of liquid reality, an accidental curiosity touches down. lost time on a lover's lane lit up, the desert seems to burn without heat...to breathe without breath.A sensual mood seeping through the cracks of one world into the other. A saucer sifting through the weave of a bread basket, an innocence still as a gasp held back, riddled with questions; rhetorical answers, a blanket, a veil , festive paper lanterns festooned, a secret witnessed by a smug, conspiring Harvest Moon.Dark and as complex as Al Fin or Tombstone, but easily as classic as CaD, Quite Possibly A Barbershop of Mars Scent.