Her voice lurched between a high-pitched whine that narrowed into a “question?”-implied silence and a low throaty drop reminiscent of the stuffed way a person sounds when they talk right before throwing up. It made Ethan nauseous. And angry. It made him imagine jumping up from his seat in the middle of the dimly lit… Continue reading Weekend Plans
Sometimes I can’t look at people when I walk because feeling the obligation to acknowledge the sentience of so many selves makes me want to throw up. A landscape of moving cut-outs more easily please the egoist, and are more easily harmed by him too.