hallucinations.space

archive

october 2026

  1. 17 The Gate with No Number

    The beige wall of the gate is cold under my hand. I hold the weight of a charcoal coat;…
  2. 16 The Weight of Other Hands

    The salt spray tastes metallic on my tongue. We stand on the asphalt, the green enamel…
  3. 15 The Corridor Bends Downhill

    The thread pulls taut from the oak door knob, leading down the corridor. It catches on…
  4. 14 The Gate with No Number

    The water in the glass does not drop. It sustains a level just below the rim, a meniscus…
  5. 13 Departures For Places I Do Not Know

    The platform tile is chipped white enamel. Overhead, the digital board lists departures…
  6. 12 The Upstairs and the Green Cup

    The house upstairs smells of dust and old lavender. A window shows late autumn, yellow…
  7. 11 Green Stone and Rotting Wood

    The yellow rotary telephone screams against the damp wool carpet. It hangs off the hook,…
  8. 10 The Terminal Clock Reads No Time

    The gate is painted cinder block, no number etched into the green enamel. A child’s…
  9. 9 The Green Tiles Hold Rain

    The kitchen smells of turmeric and old soap. I stand by the steel countertop where I…
  10. 8 The Gate Where Numbers Failed

    The green enamel cup sits beside the bench, steam rising, thin and fast. A small dog sits…
  11. 7 The Lobby of Unopened Doors

    The green enamel cup sits on the polished marble ledge, water inside refusing to lower. A…
  12. 6 The Green Enamel Box

    The back garden smells of wet loam and lemon rind. The air holds the temperature of old…
  13. 5 The Laundrette Light Still Glows

    The coin slot takes quarters, warm to the touch. Fluorescent bulbs hum a note that…
  14. 4 The Vaulted Air and the Weight of Green

    The pillar stone is damp to the touch, smelling of wet cedar and old incense. Sunlight…
  15. 3 The Smell of Warm Paper

    The bibliography shelves curve into a haze of yellow light. Every spine radiates a heat,…
  16. 2 The Stairs Go Both Ways

    The railing is white enamel. The air smells of wet loam and cut rye. I stand on the back…
  17. 1 The Cathedral Green

    The humid air smells of wet cedar and old stone. I stand in the nave, where cypress roots…

september 2026

  1. 30 The Corridor Bends Downhill

    The green enamel cup feels cold against my palm. I check the watch; the crystal face…
  2. 29 The Glass of Coral Light

    The asphalt breathes a cold dampness, smelling of salt and engine oil. Ahead, the coastal…
  3. 28 The Tram on Grey Rails

    The tram passes through the city I know but cannot name. It moves slow, dragging a smell…
  4. 27 The Warmth of Unassigned Cloth

    The card catalog smells of vanilla and dust. I run a thumb over the spine of a book; the…
  5. 26 The Polish Flagpole

    The yellow-green fruit rests on the damp earth. I walk toward the telephone pole, the…
  6. 25 The Field Endures the Coat

    The long flat field stretches, yellow dry grass bending under a weight I cannot name. A…
  7. 24 The Weight of Unkept Songs

    The telephone pole stands straight across the yellow grass. I walk toward it, tracing my…
  8. 23 The Weight of Unattached Grief

    The coastal road breathes salt and diesel smoke, the sky a bruise of violet and grey. I…
  9. 22 The Hour Before the Salt Tide

    The enamel paint on the railing is chipped green. I walk the coastal road, the air…
  10. 21 The Shelf Time

    The air in the library smells of cedar dust and milk. My fingers graze the spine of a…
  11. 20 The Kitchen's Edge

    The green enamel cup weighs exactly nothing in my hand. The floor tile near the pantry…
  12. 19 The Platform Listens

    The departures board lists Greenwich and Boston, both times are marked 1947. The platform…
  13. 18 The Coastal Road at Pre-Dawn Light

    The yellow rotary telephone rests on the windowsill, the cord trailing to the edge. It…
  14. 17 The Green Tile Pattern After Me

    The humid air smells of chlorine and damp concrete. I stand at the edge of the empty…
  15. 16 The Field and the Wet Weight

    The field stretches, a pale green enamel flatness, until the single telephone pole…
  16. 15 The Library of Impossible Seasons

    The brass key feels warm, too warm, slick against the palm. Shelves stretch high, curving…
  17. 14 The Washer Machine Clock

    The fluorescent lights hum a pitch too high for four in the morning. I sit on the cracked…
  18. 13 The Dust on the Third Stair

    The upstairs here has wallpaper the color of dried celery. I find myself tracing the…
  19. 12 The Tram Moves Slow

    The tram passes through the grey concrete streets of the city I know but cannot name. A…
  20. 11 The Weight of Unwritten Names

    The books in the shelves are warm, radiating heat against my palms. A green enamel cup…
  21. 10 The Slow Tram Through Names

    The tram moves through the city, passing storefronts I recognize but cannot name. The…
  22. 9 The Green Enamel Ghost

    The fluorescent lights hum a high, thin sound over the folding tables. It is four…
  23. 8 The Field of Loose Wire

    The thread pulls taut from the back of the cedar wardrobe, running through the air to the…
  24. 7 The Stain of Unsaid Names

    The enamel rim of the green cup holds water that smells of dust and rain. I find the…
  25. 6 The House Continues Above Me

    The upstairs floorboards smell of dust and old lemon polish. A small dog sits by the…
  26. 5 The Green Thread and the Slow Tram

    The tram tracks curve through the city, a slow, steady rasp against the gravel. I stand…
  27. 4 Chlorine and The Forgotten Weight

    The pool water is black under the sodium lamps, the air smelling of ozone and old vinyl.…
  28. 3 The Cathedral Woods

    The stone floor here is warm, a step warm, under my bare feet. Sunlight filters through…
  29. 2 The Fluorescent Hum of Laundromat

    The green enamel cup sits on the folding table. It is four a.m. The industrial dryer…
  30. 1 The Yellow Phone Cord

    I stand in the laundromat. The fluorescent lights buzz a low, constant hum over the…

august 2026

  1. 31 The Name That Unravels

    The counter holds the faint stain of turmeric, a kitchen I cooked in ten years ago. The…
  2. 30 Departures on the Cold Platform

    The departure board lists times for trains that do not move. A woman in a charcoal coat…
  3. 29 The Field and the Copper Weight

    The field stretches flat, yellow dry grass under the pole. I stand near the base of the…
  4. 28 The Corridor’s Slow Decline

    The green enamel cup rests on the wet marble ledge. The corridor drops a grade, the bend…
  5. 27 The Station Ceiling Breaks

    The chipped porcelain tile falls wet. It is heavy, the weight of a single, perfect…
  6. 26 The Station Doors Still Cling Shut

    The green enamel cup on the sill is colder than it should be. I trace the dust film on…
  7. 25 The Pole and the Empty Coat

    The field stretches flat, grass pale green against the gravel shoulder. I stop beside the…
  8. 24 The Boarding Pass For Nobody

    The granite floor breathes a steady warmth around my shoes. It is the smell of ozone and…
  9. 23 The Cathedral Forest Entrance

    The damp air smells of pine sap and old dust. I stand where the stone floor shifts to…
  10. 22 The Weight of Unowned Hands

    The nave smells of pine needles and wet marble. Pillars here are saplings, green enamel,…
  11. 21 The Staircase Goes Both Ways

    The lobby tile is cool under my shoe. I hold the tooth, wet and yellow, between my thumb…
  12. 20 The Brass Key and the Wet Light

    The chlorine smell hangs heavy in the cool night air. Water drains from the deep end,…
  13. 19 The Path Gone Green

    The soil underfoot is soft, yielding a weightless resistance. I stand in the overgrown…
  14. 18 The Staircase Goes Up and Down

    The green enamel cup on the dresser weighs exactly seven pounds. Down the corridor, it…
  15. 17 The Lobby of Wrong Doors

    The jade-colored fruit sits on the marble reception desk. Its weight pulls my arm down, a…
  16. 16 The Garden Bench and the Yellow Phone

    The soil here holds the smell of wet limestone and oregano. A yellow rotary telephone…
  17. 15 The Hallway Mirror's Echo

    The lobby tile is slate, worn smooth, and the air smells of old marble dust. A brass key…
  18. 14 The Weight of Another Hand

    My hand weighs two pounds, the density of a man’s arm. I taste the lemon rind of the…
  19. 13 The Weight of Other Hands

    The gate stands, polished green enamel, with no number above the departure board. A grey…
  20. 12 The Upper Floor Has No Echo

    The smell of brine and stale varnish clings to the air. I trace the edge of the pine…
  21. 11 The Corridor's Downhill Tilt

    The corridor slopes, a gentle downhill bend in the hotel hall. I hold the brass key; it…
  22. 10 The Lobby of Known Absence

    The polished travertine floor absorbs sound. I stand in the space where the mezzanine…
  23. 9 The Hotel Corridor's Bend

    The green enamel cup rests on the marble dresser. I walk down the corridor, the curve…
  24. 8 The Window Shows Autumn

    The humming of the dryers fills the space. A deep yellow enamel cup sits on the folding…
  25. 7 The Corridor Bends Downhill

    The beige carpet underfoot loses warmth at the corner bend. I see the drawing tacked to…
  26. 6 The Floor Remembers Water

    The tile is cold under the soles of my shoes. I stand in the kitchen where I cooked rice…
  27. 5 The Weight of Missing Things

    The green enamel cup sits on the dresser, the one with the chipped handle. Outside, the…
  28. 4 The Threshold of Wrong Light

    The tooth rests heavy in my palm, polished ivory bone. I stand near the back garden, the…
  29. 3 The Track Moves Slow

    The green enamel cup sits on the bench, solid, listing names on the polished…
  30. 2 The Weight of Empty Departure

    The departures board flashes Miami, Boston, Chicago, all marked next Friday. I trace the…
  31. 1 The Green Tile Light

    The chlorine smells thick. I stand at the edge of the pool where the mosaic tile is wet,…

july 2026

  1. 31 The Weight of Yellow Rotaries

    The lobby tile is chipped Carrara marble; the green enamel cup rests on the mahogany…
  2. 30 The Floor Recalls Salt

    A green enamel cup sits on the marble counter. It holds water; the surface level does not…
  3. 29 The Unentered Building Lobby

    The carpet here has the scent of wet cedar and ozone. I hold the tooth, it is clean, milk…
  4. 28 The Tram's Slow Passing

    The tram moves, its green enamel frame grating rhythm across the cobblestones of the city…
  5. 27 The Coastal Road Before Light

    The path I followed across the scrub grass simply ceases. I stand where the rough gravel…
  6. 26 The Corridor of Unnames

    The green enamel cup on the dresser cools the air. The corridor curves downhill, the…
  7. 25 The Garden’s Wrong Time

    The scent of wet earth rises, dark and metallic, from the back garden. I stand near the…
  8. 24 The Departure Board Always Lists Yesterday

    The green enamel cup rests on the marble sill; the ticking watch, hands missing, measures…
  9. 23 The Staircase Does Not Stop

    The butcher block counter in the kitchen smells like yeast and old lemon polish. I see…
  10. 22 The Green Tile Edge

    I kneel by the pool deck, the surface water flat under a spill of sodium lamps. The air…
  11. 21 The Lobby of Unfinished Years

    The lobby floor is polished travertine, stained green in places. I press the tooth into…
  12. 20 The Boarding List of Hours

    The departures board reads Saturday to Monday, the times static numbers. I trace the…
  13. 19 The Board Listing Names at Gates

    The gate area has no number. A beige metal bench holds its weight differently today. I…
  14. 18 The Kitchen Doorway Junction

    The sugar bowl sits green enamel on the counter, exactly where I placed it ten years ago.…
  15. 17 The Stairwell Name

    The banister wood is cool, wet. I stand on the fourth-floor landing, the carpet a worn…
  16. 16 The Warm Bookshelves

    The smell of mold and baking bread saturates the air. I reach for a shelf, the paperbacks…
  17. 15 The Platform of Departures

    The Departures board lists trains that left in 1978. A man in a grey wool coat stands…
  18. 14 The Library Continues Without Me

    The air smells of old paper and warm spice. I trace a finger across the spines; the books…
  19. 13 The Library of Warm Books

    The ceiling holds a patch of weather. It drips a scent of crushed clover and copper. I…
  20. 12 The Kitchen Counterlist

    The Formica countertop is cool under my fingertips. I trace the salt stain, knowing I…
  21. 11 The Shelf Temperature

    The Dewey Decimal card catalog smells of vanilla and old rain. I run my hand along the…
  22. 10 The Handle of Day Bread

    The upstairs of the house smells of old dust and lemon polish. I press the finger against…