Cindys petrochemical plant managed by her husband Norbert
He’s just half-eaten a sandwich, he’s got a little dino friend, a couple perhaps.
Surrounded by strange industrial structures and debris he’s quickly animated by inhuman images and sounds.
Fearful over a dream she had about sinking in quicksand she quickly remembered Pasolini’s words.
‘In a dense fog’ they read, no it was perhaps another instance.
She used to live on an island and swim off a beach at an isolated cove. She orders pizza often. Of all the rocks in the cove it seems that only one comes alive and sings to her.
In the voice of the core.
The factories wide consumption continues.
Twenty-two minutes per side.
Something good.