Sunday, October 16, 2022


Isaac looked at his bathroom window and screamed. It was back! He had been trying to avoid it most of his life, but no matter where he fled, it always found him.
And it demanded unspeakable "things".

"Only slightly higher, rather like a lateral pelvic tilt ... "

It wasn't over. It would never be over. His mother was right, he should have listened to her, and settled down with the Beis Jakov girl, instead of going off on a mad adventure.

Isaac is actually a friend who lives overseas, a scribe-musician, involved in some fascinating stuff. But part of his life is, in a way, nightmarish.
Odd objects are stored on the landing, including an ironing board.

Sometimes things take on a life of their own.

Ni. Pêng. Nee-wom!

Part of it is the light where he lives. Part of it is the strange foreign foods that affect the mind, because they affect the digestion. By the way, they have no frikandel there, and probably no Sriracha. So it's a hardship post.

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