Status Updates From Paper Targets: Art Can Be M...

This is so good!


In my coat pocket, there were matches. I started a fire. A raven glided past and landed in the nearby tree. He croaked loudly and was answered by another raven from across the canyon. I put more sticks on the fire. Thin had been right in that I didn't have friends. What I had were people who needed what I could do for them. I had rocks and trees. I had fire and ravens. And I had patterns.

Inside was an albino man. His hair was typing-paper-white, and his eyes were red. He looked up at us as we knocked on his door, recognized Pascal, and said hello to him. He glanced at me and spoke to Pascal, “Don’t be asking for specialized exceptions. I am booked solid in an extravagant manner.” He said this with pauses as if he was crudely fishing with worms for big words in a stagnant pond.