Mo Pomo

"Last night something really frightening happened," Harley related. "Last night the dream seemed longer and more exhaustive than ever, I seemed to be examining my own body down to the last follicle and nose hair."

"I'd say you've spent a bit too much time on camera," Urquhart speculated.

"Yeah, could be. Only listen to this. The more I saw of my body, the more convinced I became that it wasn't really mine."

Urquhart shrugged. "Sounds like one of those postmodern moments to me. I am not I. Being as paradox. Sign in, stranger, sous rature."

The grackle made an unappreciative noise and went back to work on their canteloupe.