You are a character in a dream of mine. Together we wander the halls of a crumbling, labyrinthine mansion. In the course of our journey, we discover that we have a common desire to inflict great violence upon the fabric of our times, to distill our lives into a single act of harrowing, eloquent savagery. As we begin to plan out the operational details of a shared offense, we become separated and you find yourself alone in the attic, surrounded by old brushes and half-used cans of paint. Like all dreamers, I have a terrible memory. What can you write or draw upon the walls to recall to me our conversation and the promises made therein?
Tags: bonus materials, extras, first novel, orphans
remember stop concentrate stop operation furious morning stop preparations nearly complete stop can’t stop now stop won’t stop now stop come home stop come home stop come home
I’d paint a picture of a burning house, in one of the upper windows a face gazes out at the beholder. When you remember that face (ie. me) you’ll remember what to do.