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Description

1650

“Where are you going?” He sounded pathetic. The distance between us was increasing gradually but he was still there, still following. He seemed bound to me somehow, I could feel it. As if we were tied together by a piece of elastic and it was down to me to snap it, snap it clean through and without letting myself be bounced right back to him, a dead weight at the end of a bungee rope. I could feel the breath going in and out of my lungs like a visible substance, a silvery dust. I was almost more frightened now than I’d been in the van. It would be so easy to make a mistake.

Featured in our EXTREME GRAPHIC OPERATIONS portfolio in Deep Ends: A Ballardian Anthology 2022 (Powell River, BC: The Terminal Press, 2022, edited by Rick McGrath).

Description

1650

“Where are you going?” He sounded pathetic. The distance between us was increasing gradually but he was still there, still following. He seemed bound to me somehow, I could feel it. As if we were tied together by a piece of elastic and it was down to me to snap it, snap it clean through and without letting myself be bounced right back to him, a dead weight at the end of a bungee rope. I could feel the breath going in and out of my lungs like a visible substance, a silvery dust. I was almost more frightened now than I’d been in the van. It would be so easy to make a mistake.

Featured in our EXTREME GRAPHIC OPERATIONS portfolio in Deep Ends: A Ballardian Anthology 2022 (Powell River, BC: The Terminal Press, 2022, edited by Rick McGrath).