near our destination
October 31, 2001 02:16 PM

The office snack machine sells bags of chocolate chip cookies. I don't think I've ever eaten ordinary packaged chocolate chip cookies. At least all the cookies in recent memory are homemade, or carefully mass-produced to resemble homemade.

These are surprisingly good. Essentially, they're cookie dust hardened around chocolate chips. Disintegrating on contact with my mouth.

If I go back to the snack machine, I will not only end up overfilled but seventy cents poorer. And people will doubtless want me to eat cookies and other sweets later today. It being Halloween.

So tomorrow. Or the next day, depending on your perspective, starts the non-time between now and the new year.

This seems doubly appropriate, as I am not merely bleeding but seeping. I can imagine pre-humans thinking they might come all inside out like this. Get all un. I feel about to be un, not in a bad way. Just all inside out.

In theory, the difference between here and not-here is slight. And in theory, all manner of things start slipping dimensions starting tomorrow (or the next day, depending on your perspective). Dimension-slipping seems to have come several weeks early this year. Last night my water tasted [of soap] funny, and I could see the fear on the boy's face when I asked him to exchange it.

We're living in some surreal other world where the water supply could be evil. And you can't quite believe you're actually scared of the things you're scared of.

I'd say things have slipped. I think they've slipped already.

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