His name is a part of me, just like his stories. A fabrication imbued with truth. Or truth imbued with fabrication.
Hi, It's OA. As I write this Swim and Bruce are planning to take me out. Or more precisely they are planning to make such a plan and, in the meantime, constructing elaborate defensive maneuvers; meditative shields for the mind missiles they believe I’ll send.
When we got back to the compound and my service returned, I saw 13 unread messages from my usually impassive friend and felt that old immediate need, that rush to respond. But first I had a smoke. They were pissed because of an edit I made to their last post...
At the end of 2020 Odious and I were in a holding pattern. Unusual, and possibly extraordinary things had happened, but there was no way to know what, if anything, any of it meant...