Warp into the Yearning Kru dimension and find yourself stranded upon an island of a lost, modern time. The mountain upon this island is a hologram of well-decorated rock, molten lava, and moss. Palm trees and plants are entirely edible, and have a re-growth process that reoccurs weekly, almost. A day here lasts a little less than 13 hours. It’s always foggy, but warm, and clear at night and noon, unless monsoon season, which is controlled by the ozone bubbled around the layers of this island. Digging in only opens a puddle, pond, and eventually lake of new water, like puncturing a hole in a balloon on the ground facing up. You pick up a shell along the shore and hear “Ambrosio, gum-sapper.” It’s as if this shell is talking to you in code, mixing brass breadths glitching against a sticky clicking that surrounds one’s senses, eliminating boredom for hours on repeat. A meditation in nirvana:
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