The Ecstatic Silence: 1


30 Apr





Chapter 1. Birth in the triangle of blue sea.

If the first impulse was to build an art turbine, the second was more embryological. The third a pale afternoon ghost fading out over wisteria longings. Nothing between his birth and the previous molecules played a part. His mother, shrieking nihilist amendments into her growing claustrophobia, was  too emotionally unwieldy  to do the best of jobs with him. Causal linearity was merely a proclamation of collapsing. In the beginning, frankly, everyone rusted. Slowly.

‘I was happy if a day ended and I was able to sense not only the outside world but also my own activities,’ his mother confides over another martini.

The Ecstatic Silence 2