What if a gift is shit? If the person who has bought the gift couldn’t give two rats arses about what the recipient derives enjoyment from or can make use of in their lives, then the gift will usually be utter crap.
Starfish explosions across the retina; a confusion of sounds, both unreal and real; blurred inputs and solid outputs meshed together.
Today’s lesson would be on the topography of internal spaces. You see, young Sambal was not in the same physical location as himself. Why, that would have been too easy. He needed more time to do.
How many times does a lie have to be told for us to start believing that it may contain some degree of truth?
Floorboards creaked underfoot as I made my way back through the house. I had never been in a house like this, yet it was utterly familiar in layout.
A shadow cast by the moon on the face of Mars is our guide through the understory. It is a marker on our divergent paths.
I dream of fantastic patés, bought wrapped in paper from the local charcutier, but then I shop in the local Monoprix, scared to set foot in artisanal shops.