Elisa left reception surrounded by light. Seams of it cracked the high-rise towers ahead of her, gilding her retinas. For once, she didn’t mind not knowing where she was headed, starting a new journey with no destination.

To hold hands
Is to be in chains.

I made you in my image
So you could have everything I’m proud of.

You wave
At everyone.
Usually goodbye,
Sometimes hello.

If I had slept ten minutes, I had slept a lifetime.

Barlow beams as the escapement begins to rotate. His workshop is laced with tobacco and damp and the fading scent of industry.

Breakfasts in Cirebon are simple. Sickly sweet Coco Crunch with milk that never tastes quite right. On the humming fridge, three-quarters of the way up, is my first drawing, a cat with a jet engine for legs, crudely rendered in blue and red felt tip.

A week ago I tried switching my web browser's default search engine from Google to Perplexity.

I've deleted my Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram accounts.

A round up of the year.