Status Updates From The Very Best of Caitlín R....

This lady freaking rocks

What do you dream, Sabit, my dear sadistic plaything? Do you dream in installations, muscles and tendons, gallery walls of sweating pig flesh, living bone exposed for all to see, vivisection as not-quite still life, portrait of the artist as a young atrocity?
<- this was four short stories ago, and i'm still thinking about that one

ah, so lyrical and sinister. i feel right at home