human beings produce awfully weird noises and sound. even with only our own anatomic machines we create grunts, spasmodic laughter, alien bleeps and tiny wicked lies that align with the planets to create havoc across time and space ...

I had this dream where I was working in a small coffee stand, having been laid off, I was openly perusing the want-ads while on the clock, when a most gorgeous woman takes her place in front of me. she wants coffee, some disgusting pastry and then she leaves, paying, but as she walks away she drops something from her purse. mesmerized and impulsive I jump the counter running after her, but she had disappeared into a sky rise labyrinth of escalators and lobby art. in an attempt to find her, I ran all over, but each floor was an exact replica of the one before. as I am about to give up, still distracted and eye-strained I am unaware that only 10ft from me there is a beast of a man, unraveled at every seam of the mind. he is a fat and pudgy little man, wearing what was once a suit, the jacket and button down have been ghosted, the a-shirt that remains mucus stained and filthy mad, caked with what appears to be dried shit, is torn and does nothing to hide his enormous swollen gut. and he is staring directly at me. breathing heavily, hydraulic shifting weight in place, snot oozing from his nose like two loose reigns, what had been random focus, was now directed sunlight hot with atomic sickness. I am horrified to a degree of petrification, infected with curiosity, a nasty mistake which causes the man to bolt suddenly forward. he is agile and inexplicably cunning in his movement, whereas I am not. my arm is asleep and my leg cracks under the weight of atrophy and his expanding body gains on me quickly. hard and fast and gruesome, his eyes are more than bloodshot, improperly decompressed from the depths of some great madness, his flesh is saturated and decomposing and smells of terrible rotten death. what he will do is beyond me, but I am pinned and too confused to be frightened, impressed as my imagination breathes proud life into its nightmare, insect creation from the deep, two inches from my face. he seems to have grown small again, sedated once again by the voices I cannot hear, but know are my own, he grabs my hand and forces upon me a small business card in foul condition. and then he erupts as laughter. it is a piercing disturbed fear, sound diseased and parasitic, and as he steps back towards the escalator, his stare never waivers, fixated and impenetrable by any outside witness, the source is implosive and hylomorphic and screaming as he falls over the railing into the escalator bank now many stories too high. looking down at the business card in my hand, it only contains an address and nothing more.

and then I wake up. I never found the woman.