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Comix

Sunday Comics

Put your hands over your eyes. Jump out of the plane. There is no pilot. You are not alone. Standby. This is the Comics. And this is the Sunday of the Comics. This is the time. And this is the record of the time.

Comix

Sunday Comics

I follow Victor to the sacred place. This ain’t a dream, I can’t escape. Molars and fangs, the clicking of bones — spirits moaning among the tombstones.
“I don’t want to be buried in a pet cemetery, I don’t want to live my life again.”