After losing my right eye, I saw the "folds of reality."
The walls of the apartment are repeatedly "pregnant" and "aborted", spitting out the bones of the missing; the subway has become a never-ending "body printer", replicating smiling wax figures of passengers; the town in 1999 is a collective "time epilepsy", stuck in the carnival of the turn of the century and festering.
The headquarters building of the Global Anomaly Control Bureau, to which I have sworn allegiance, is the remains of a century-old giant that is slowly awakening.
——The world is sick, and the disease is called "obsession cancer."
