Post-Time

Post marks time. Nothing in your mailbox.

The beat drops out. Hold your breath.

Flatliners. Bacon at 0 degrees. "Some medical students take turns temporarily killing each other, then bringing each other back to life, with the intent of simply "visiting" the Afterlife. They keep increasing the length that they are dead for, and eventually some of their perceived sins start literally coming back with them until their need for atonement is realised" (wikipedia).

My blog is all cracks and no pavement. Your mother's back is in serious danger should you tread here. I'm all interstices.

Virtual spaces are easily abandoned.

Tick. [bracket]. Tick.