The envelope was thick, cream-colored, and addressed to me in elegant, unfamiliar script. It arrived on a day like any other – a Tuesday, rain slicking the windows of our tiny apartment, the air inside smelling faintly of stale cooking and damp laundry. Lily was colouring at the chipped Formica […]
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The Easter basket arrived this morning, though I live alone and ordered nothing. Inside, nestled amongst the garish plastic grass, wasn’t chocolate, but a single, impossibly large, milky-white eye staring up at me. It wasn’t glass; it felt disturbingly organic beneath my hesitant fingertip, cool and slightly yielding, veined with
A man stands in the desert. His skin is big bright white. Brighter than normal, a sharp sort of glowing white like lit up cellophane. This is the past to his present and he is not human. Across many sand dunes, a line of cammels walks slowly towards the sun.
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