I spent hours—four, maybe more—shaping last week’s session of Kult: Divinity Lost, trying to make sense of it, to coax it into coherence. Only halfway through. It holds. Just barely. The rest waits. Belle and Grayson and the dream they shared. Wexley’s visitation, his encounter with what cannot be named but must be described.
Been reading Arctic Dreams. Lopez. I can feel the rhythm of his language moving through mine. Don’t know if it’s influence or infection. Doesn’t matter. It’s in there now.