The sun is setting. The sky is all twilight, pinks and oranges and yellows. You find yourself staring. The sun touches the horizon line. A mar reveals itself on its skin as if breaking in a shatter. It startles you, but you do not stop staring. A mar on the sky itself rips open in front of you. The rift is torn apart like cheap fabric as a shadow lifts its head against it, as inky curtains of hair spill out, as the sky falls around it like a veil. You cannot stop staring. The unmistakable shape of an eye rips open. It mirrors the horizon line perfectly. It spots you, looms over you. The next tear opens inside the rift; a crooked smile, full of teeth. You wish you could stop staring. In comes a whisper in your ear, a breath of voiceless voice: hiiiiiiiii~

i feel like ive mentioned this before, but the "h" in "h. reisz" often stands for "hypocrite". they loathe the concept of having someone walking around in their psyche and/or peering inside their head... and love doing that to other people. theyre a curious little thing, is all. just browsing :) don't worry about it :) if they like the cut of your jib you will wake up better than when you went to sleep. you may find a treat in your pocket, even. if they don't... well. oh well!

unedited og

yknow the deal. alt versions georg.