After I lost the dog on the highway, that is, after I lost Frank, I flew my drone around in widening ever-panicking gyres until my battery died and the drone went crashing onto the sidewalk. I didnt even bother to retrieve it but got in the van and, rather numb, drove home, parked, went into the kitchen for a glass of water, sat down on the couch, and then wept into my hands. So close and yet so far away, I kept repeating to myself.
She went out for bread and on her way she walked past the open doors of the auditorium used for bridal gown, gun, and political conventions. She took some steps back and looked inside at floors being mopped in half circles. The mops like long hair sweeping back and forth leaving trails of water fading quickly under the lights.
T. Motley is the author of The Road to Golgonooza, a fake jam comic.
One month had passed since the events we last spoke of. The readers attention is now drawn to the small village of LÎle-Adam, which occupies a delightful vantage point along the Oise river, at the edge of a forest. Here, in the countryside, the smallest events assume importance. And that morning the idlers of LÎle-Adam, as they strolled across the square before the church, were greatly occupied with the arrival of the new owner of the towns finest butcher shop, recently sold by the Widow Dumont.
Nathan Place is a carbon-based organism who works by day as a video producer and by night as the peculiar cartoonist behind Golthar, Terror of the Deep. He grew up in New York City, but is just as tormented by living here as most people. He publishes a new Golthar every week on Instagram at @GoltharTerrorOfTheDeep.