The Follies File

I. Clearance The floor slicks open. He steps down – like a man arriving at his second home. Coat unwrinkled. Soul unclaimed. No trumpets. Just the low hum of paperwork completing itself. A demon glances up, checks the clipboard. [cursor blinks – he’s been here before] “Oh. You.” Someone lights a

After a True Farce The hearing began at 10:07. There was a brief delay: someone had parked in the magistrate’s space and left a peach yoghurt behind. We stood. The judge entered sideways, adjusting her robe as if betrayed by it. The clerk intoned the case number, an

If we were war, we’d call it necessary. We’d speak of strategy, flags, lines drawn. We’d praise discipline, honour the dead, forget the fire. If we were famine, we’d call it balance – a long lesson, a reckoning. The hungry must learn. If we were cancer, we’