He can tell the date is going terribly.
She neatly cuts her steak, exposing a cross-section of the shockingly pink meat. It’s a hot day. They should have eaten inside.
“So you work for an animal rights organization.”
“Yes,” he replies.
“And my work involves experimenting on animals.”
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✦ Serious Weakness personality quiz
for the first time ever, scientists have discovered a way to analyze your Serious Weakness personality…
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✦ cupbearer to the gods act IV
On that note, Krabat sent me a genuine Veau in the washing machine!!
together we will destroy pederasty through the power of merchandising! ✌️✨
An endless breath. At first he thought it was his own. But his air is congealed, unmoving, stuck in his nostrils and throat like clear resin.
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Lazur crosses the tarmac to the private plane. The mansion burns into the red evening, but only the smoke reaches the runway. The concrete under his feet, a blend of pulverized sand and tar, seems to go on forever in the dark.
💣 MORE 💣This is part of 18ft Leash: Scout’s Honor but it stands alone too. picture by evan.
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When your parents adopted, you finally had someone to share your secrets with. Two boys whispering in the nooks of a big, sterile house that still seemed like no one lived there, transplanted whole from civilization to this diseased atoll and sealed up with air conditioning.
Cancer wasn’t some piece of snot you grew up with, already tired of you, desensitized to your specialness. He was a brother gift-wrapped and opened on xmas day. Eager as a puppy, so impressed by everything you showed him. He didn’t know how to use a microwave, and it made you feel superior, and you knew he wouldn’t make fun of anything you said because he didn’t know better. But it was the weak stomach that really brought you together.
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Lazur sits in a cramped office, facing a desk with an empty seat. There is a CRT security monitor on the desk playing cartoons. He is exhausted. He can’t sleep. He has to wait for it to ambush him, when all hope is gone.
Dynamite rains behind his eyelids. Scarred lips chewing on a hissing red stick like Bugs Bunny, smearing it like lipstick. Lazur’s head hangs back, mouth open. He is so tired. Wile E. Coyote just made a bunny sexbot full of dynamite to lure that nymphomaniac Bugs Bunny. Bugs counters with a coyote sexbot. They’re just looking for love. They’re crazy about each other.
💣 MORE 💣200 degrees of boiling water distilled with a concentrate of magnesium sulfate and sodium bicarbonate, ordinator-programmed for exact temperature control, heated in an industrial-class boiler, blasts through a stainless steel metal filter into Riparian’s cup, spurting from the leather and mahogany and rose gold $4000 coffee maker, complete with burr grinder and steam wand.
The dark-haired man dips his nose into the darkness of the cup, and inhales. His heart beats faster, as if the caffeine was already in his bloodstream. His eyes dilate over the ceramic rim, stark and creased as if sleepless from the womb.
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Parsani notes that the premature birth of Ahriman is in fact an allegory for the self-introspection of Time (Zurvan) into its more abysmal scales…
— Reza Negarestani, Cyclonopedia
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Greenwich is showering. The concrete floor and gritty sand makes her think of a beach shower. But there is no ocean, only the black sea of petroleum beneath her feet in this desert bunker.
She opens her eyes and her skin gives her vertigo. Serpents barely visible in the murk of deep waters. The qatran is feeding off the violence like a school of red garra. She remembers going with her mother to a salon (the lull of fans and a corner-mounted TV and some toys sticky with other children’s fingers) and her mother’s feet going in a basin of fish which nibbled away the dead skin.
💣 MORE 💣Something had changed in the world and it had become bad. Going outside was dangerous. It was very bad in the field across from the parking lot. The ground was covered in sluggish lobes and it was easy to step inside the openings. I stayed in the house. I don’t think it was my house but it was where we were when it started. We didn’t remember things, or we didn’t have the ability to act on what we remembered.
He was showing me something in the second room down the hall. There was clutter everywhere and it was a small room. I stood outside and looked in. He had a large pot of soup and he opened the lid and particles or vapor came from it and filled the air like a disc of steam. It was difficult to see. It felt wrong. The soup had been in the refrigerator and was cold and congealed. He smiled and was not alarmed and was stupid and amused. He was “showing me something” but not thinking much about it. The cloud of air or particles or moisture above the pot seemed to be getting brighter or more “active” in a way that brightness does not describe. It was a kind of “bubbling” that was “dirty”. I had a really bad feeling. I reached for a white cord that was on the floor and pulled on it. Even though I was pulling it sideways and would bend the prongs, I didn’t want to go inside the room. If I went inside the room something permanent might happen to me, that had already happened to the world. I pulled the cord and I think the process stopped. But there was no way of knowing which processes had started or ended.
⭐ Torture Works is now on PDF/EPUB on itchio. and paperback on amzn.
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