Seismic Activity

You’re sitting in your room and staring at the wall when
suddenly your
spine shudders in a shrill scream of ice-cold vigour and
slowly, all at once
the numbness spreads to your arms and legs and hands and
shoulders and
you can feel the static current shaking your veins and
viscera, quivering and trembling with
frosted whispers of disquiet and the
convulsions soon take
over your body and soul, leaving you in the epicentre of your
own
natural disaster.

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The Economy of the Printed Page

Fiction is almost always as fictional as we
wish for it to be, because the
sounds of prose
exist to blot out the
ink stains in our
minds, to fill in the
voids left by thoughts waiting to
happen, to mend
the ripped corners of our
souls.

Fiction is almost never entirely
fictional, because it encompasses the
illusions and
delusions of our lives in a
singular breath, spanning centuries and
revolutions and moments soaked in
hues of intensity and
underwhelming sadness, in finite
sentences governed by the economy of the
printed page.

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