Fancy

Clods are clouds.

A Story For People Who Like Stories Too Much

They needed a story, so I picked one out for them. It was about three shapes, they had no relation. They didn't fit together. So they went for a walk.

Lines in space. Aged lines. It's been a while, really, sorry they keep disappearing...

You can ask me again. Well, they're all changed now, it's quite alright! Nighty night.

Dot dot

dot.

Doyen of Night

So many delicate threads,
unschooled.

It's not unhappiness. It's the time
before writing.

Sequence

My eyes were blank. I looked at the blinds. The sun shimmied in. It was soft to the touch.

Orientalism

Dosa rhymes with sari, I don't know how