Monday UnSunday

There is. There was. And a wall between. This is the setting: is-wall-was. A triangle if you like. Draped across by a loosely woven Mexican day, the apex of which - atop our wall - was a view of Alamos. Which flowed down each side, to the is and to the was, to become two rough and low, unlit points, one too new to type, the other too old for typing. Such is the Mexican day.