To Beuchert’s:
Under the unseeing gaze and morbid rictus of the totem animal once revered by the natives of this land, Anthony performed his weekly ritual, supplying the intoxication and oblivion demanded by The Industry as they gnawed mindless on the flayed organs of lesser creatures.
Bastard dangerous curiosity drove him to ask, to inquire, to risk the attentions of insane beings that do not live yet cannot die on the other side of our fine veil of reality…
“Dude,” he asked, “what are you writing?”
“Nothing,” I respond, closing the app. “Nothing at all.”
Next up:
Cooking food from a farm where a mysterious meteorite landed, we have the Colour of the Rose’s Luxury Out of Space
A strange food purveyor makes Eat the Rich consider a grand “Innsmouth Boil”
Taking the wrong doorway leads to chattering penguins and strange creatures in “Into the Doorways of the Gibson”