In that moment when the camera stops and James accelerates away from it, he appears, naturally, smaller and even more enveloped by the fog. If Silent Hill is “alive”, a malevolent but intangible sort of entity, designed after James’ own mind to consume, digest and excrete him remade, in this long, wide shot, of anContinue reading “CHAPTER TWELVE: MOUTH”
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CHAPTER TEN: OROSCO
Three days ago, in a fit of rage, I threw my coffee table across the room and it bent one of its legs. I’m resting my feet on it now while I’m writing and it keeps rocking and buckling, but I’m not going to get a new one. About halfway through the long initial walkContinue reading “CHAPTER TEN: OROSCO”
RESTLESS DREAMS 