In which I'm chased, again. This time by some custodians of Faith.
It’s Foggy in Here
You wake up and it's foggy. Outside the window and inside it. You are moving too slow, as you always do. Your ears are filled with the strange buzz of no-noise and your mouth is chalky with no-taste. You have one thousand things you should have done by last night and they are not done… Continue reading It’s Foggy in Here