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January 2, 2019
From to one image to the next the leap is too great, as the film spooling through a ratcheting projector, it skipped a few frames. When she turned towards the camera and looked towards those filming her, in her eyes we saw histories, ages, eons, the heightened dimensions of her reality. Her tongue flared green against the florid screen colours, the back-light an aura shining through her writhing hair. She seemed too close and we crowded back in our seats, shifting and restless, as if the past had turned and seen us, had judged our world vapid and pale, colourless.