The Dead Are Way More Organized Than

Remember The Movements That Don't Look Like Moving.

Ever Since I Was Two, I've Loved Octopuses, Monsters, Abandoned Buildings.

I Don't Like Allegory.

The Problem With Most Genre Fantasy Is That It's Not Nearly Fantastic Enough. It's Escapist, But It Can't Escape.

There Is No Knowing Beyond That Membrane, The Meniscus Of Death. What Can Be Seen From Here Is Distorted, Refracted. All We Can Know Are Those Untrustworthy Glimpses--that And Rumour. The Prattle. The Dead Gossip: It Is The Reverberation Of That Gossip Against The Surface Tension Of Death That The Better Mediums Hear. It Is Like Listening To Whispered Secrets Through A Toilet Door. It Is A Crude And Muffled Susurrus.