It starts with a challenge

Can you make something out of a random title, thrown out by a daughter in lockdown.

At first it seems a lost cause, but the pungent smell drifts in, inhaled into the cracks of memory. A kindling. From there a rhythm that starts to assert itself, changing and growing as we record.

Furriskey throws in a couple of brass samples and the punctuation and emphasis make themselves known. The child has grown and has its own voice, shape and identity, and refuses to be ignored..