Perhaps The Window Is Not

I Think The Role Of Science Fiction Is Not At All To Prophesy. I Think It Is To Tell Interesting, Vivid, Strange Stories That At Their Best Are Dreamlike Intense Versions And Visions Of Today.

In The Deepest Places, Where Physical Norms Collapse Under The Crushing Water, Bodies Still Fall Softly Through The Dark, Days After Their Vessels Have Capsized. They Decay On Their Long Journey Down. Nothing Will Hit The Black Sand At The Bottom Of The World But Algae-covered Bones.

Perhaps The Window Is Not A Sun But An Asterisk, Interrupting The Grammar Of The Sky, With Me Sitting Below It Like A Footnote.

I Have Danced With The Spider. I Have Cut A Caper With The Dancing Mad God.

London Is An Endless Skirmish Between Angles And Emptiness.