spiral of diminishing returns

Spiral of Diminishing Returns

A deep, gathering coldness of isolation took hold

at a slant across his caped immensity, looking so improbable

wearing a space suit is even harder - the joints of the

rind of the world: houses, factories, trams, the discarded

main interest seemed to be in enforcing a curfew

scared shitless. But that's not the point. We fight to

follow. Sun and moon travelled on, and left

nesting in the rafters, remains of beds with a moldy

orb and the infinite universe stretching out beyond

all the future was in her hands, in the hands of the

cherries as big as ping-pong balls, and popcorn in melted

fireflies hovering outside the window. It would be

just being around magic. Casual, ambient magic. People.