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Shrine of Remote Thought
We find the Door by pretending so convincingly we’re not interested in it—we actually stop looking. Easy
Your usual table is ready, if you’d kindly follow me
I soar, I sing
I can’t see a thing
You’re watching WESP-TV. The Promethean Revelation
Old friends are coming to visit
Inching towards a goal
The new names, the new faces—replaced by total silence
The Confusionist
In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king
Hello, who is this? Who are you looking for?
A cooler morning, the fog slowly burning off
A drone, a roar, huge—yet subtle. Something you feel rather than hear
Signal out here?
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