![]() |
| And yay, it was a Damascene moment that shrivelled up the inconsistencies of spelling and Euripides himself did find new fame inside the old hot dust. And lo… there was no more. On the very edge of life they sat patiently, each obediently wearing a bucket about their heads. As the last bubbles pipped through their blue lips, only then did they realise the panic that had been writhing away in them since they began to worship the fake spectator. And by that time it was too late, they were lost to each other’s sight forever by the cheap blinding light of Oz. |
![]() |


