This village isn’t right.
The passage of time is funny; it can run so fast or so slow.
This journey has been endless.
It’s just a thing people say.
Sometimes, very rarely, good things come out of bad things.
After men crawled out of the sea they learned to worship the sun.
When the trees fall away, the sky is enormous.
The road is empty of traffic, but it has a history of violence.
Is that where we’re going, then?
What are tears if not drops of sea water?
I almost wish we were going to the sea.
He could never have predicted his morning would end up like this.
The whole thing is too ridiculous.
But she has travelled too far and is a different person these days.
The realisation hits her like a splash of cold water.
What home? I don’t have a home.
The other will follow; how can it resist?
Neither says a word; they are no longer friends.
Look at me now, I’ve reached the mountain, my friends.
The hour has come for a little action instead.
The world appears to me to be shrinking.
The world demands boldness or else nothing ever gets done.
Gone Fishin’
Nothing makes any sense. Things just happen, that’s all.
The lids are just now beginning to rattle.
He is pointing the way to the world up ahead.
He has always felt most at home in the dark.
He wants the things that you don’t.
The clocks in this house all tell different times.
We’re certainly something. We’re still trying to work out precisely what.
Her sense of time has become unmoored.
Everyone is embarked on their own adventure.
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