Sunday morning abstract: the blank slate of memory.
Mr. Bingley worries about things.
Gasping for breath in the acrid alien atmosphere I stumbled to my knees. I saw tall structures and, as I fell, I thought I glimpsed tentacles rising from the ice.
I thought “Vote, I must vote!” and consciousness fled.
Polaroid SC-70II
Bitter worlds in bitter cold where the winds freeze the Polaroid caustic jelly (really need to start a band called Caustic Jelly).
Polaroid SC-70II