Spewey

Kwing. I was in a yellowy orange room with a bath. Someone had been there many years before and I understood that. She broke her leg later and I said, she was always doing that.

Before the canteen there was nothing. A faint memory of Canadienne, drifting. Quasi-modo, I've left you unadorned at the top of your tower. I'm sorry.

Cleft memories, drifting. Handled soup spoons caressing. New grasses, hillocks under shade. Where are you, where are you?!

I feel sick.