September 18, 2014:

Running figures. Falling figures. Prisoners. They torture us when we're captured. Needles in our legs, tearing the skin, like tattoo guns. Screams.

Table in a bay window. Typewriter: manual: loud and old. There's a man there, typing. This is your home. He's not someone you know.

Cries of crows, and crashing breakers. Vacuum tubes with yellow labels. It's so rare to see penguins at this latitude.