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March 27, 2021 - July 17, 2022
‘Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.’
The ships hung in the sky in much the same way that bricks don’t.
They never evolved again: they should never have survived. The fact that they did is some kind of tribute to the thick-willed slug-brained stubbornness of these creatures. Evolution? they said to themselves, Who needs it?, and what nature refused to do for them they simply did without until such time as they were able to rectify the grosser anatomical inconveniences with surgery.
the long dark teatime of the soul.
‘Can we feel sorry for the Galaxy later?’
