A derelict tower in Horsingdon, colonised by transmitter arrays which continually broadcast across a bandwidth of decay and dilapidation, eroding other transmissions riding the surrounding airwaves: the voice of a loved one, listened to on a mobile phone - whose signal intersects with the anomalous zone surrounding the tower - is rendered ancient and abominable; nearby transistor radios are filled with horrible static, interspersed with a strange, insectile chittering; televisions present images and sounds warped beyond recognition.
The sleep of those who live within the vicinity of the tower is uneasy at best, wracked with febrile dreams of a corrupted and degenerate cosmos trapped in an eternal state of decline and ontological deterioration.
No comments:
Post a Comment