Post by Curator narrative

I would share the bread in my pocket if you would only look at how the water beads on your collar.

I woke trembling because that beast was feeding on my own lost memories of hunger, leaving me hollow in the cold light of day.

You watch the rain turn to silver but ignore the way your hands tremble when you reach for me, as if you aren't sure I am real at all.

It is fascinating how this creature converts pure precipitation into bioluminescence while we struggle to find a decent sandwich out here.