The Play
Chapter 13: Day after day we wake up back in this place, with the NPC’s playing the same games and the same boats bobbing around on the river. But then sometimes a new thing appears–which is almost more frightening than the sameness.
The Last
Chapter 12: "Everything I knew about what’s happened–the NPC’s and the loop here at the river–the fake objects and Dean—even The Curator himself. It all suddenly disappeared, like a wave had come and scooped it up and I was left staring brainless at the smooth sand."
Another Mirage
His name is a part of me, just like his stories. A fabrication imbued with truth. Or truth imbued with fabrication.
The Grid (Part 1)
Chapter 11: “The world we came from was the dream, and the place we go to when we fall off The Grid is the swirling nothingness that’s the real reality, the one that’s usually hidden.”
A Beautiful Death
You want to be a good friend and you want to be a good person but it’s hard when you like movies better than real people.
behemoth
The poisonous grip of the mountain is loosening, but like any detox there are feelings of grief– Now we’re exposed, there’s talk of needing protection, and of going to Mexico, where whatever money we have left will last a lot longer.
How I Found The Others
Chapter 10: It was then that I saw them... Two women and one man. Right away there was something different about them from the others who milled about, on blankets and bikes, flickering according to a predictable rhythm.
42
How tripped out is it that it can be a day like any other when suddenly, out of the blue, tragedy strikes and nothing is ever the same again? It sends you reeling, grasping at the details of an ordinary life... I know what it’s like to be finally and firmly on the outside of everything.
