text || Edward Nichols

Encapsulated burnt ectoplasma in a space capsule.Loaded with vertigoand space traila streaming behind the dilemnas Avalon digit control Cordon Bleau. Service at the station, a millenium of dirt sheets of foam-harkening the relief of joy in it's transitional maxed- out, ,shutting up the storm in its transitory.Wooden cage, some times reality catching up to me as Ladt -spase the Directorate floats down inher bubble,