The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued

Page 2

Moe's face is a palimpsest of expressions, each one overwritten by the next. His eyes are archival voids, catalogued under "See Also: Regret." His mouth, when visible, resembles a redacted passage, and his nose is rumored to be a misplaced semicolon.

He emits a faint hum, like a fluorescent light in a room no longer used. The air around him smells faintly of dust, ink, and the sigh of a librarian who's just discovered a misfiled prophecy.

He carries a clipboard made of unresolved plot points and a pen that leaks ambiguity. His ID badge reads "Provisional Employee #000," though the expiration date is listed as "TBD, probably."

The room housing The Bureau of Unfinished Reveries is shaped like a question asked in haste. Its walls curve uncertainly, as if unsure whether to enclose or escape. There are corners that lead nowhere, alcoves that whisper half remembered lullabies, and a ceiling that occasionally lowers itself in contemplation.

Illumination is provided by chandeliers made of suspended ellipses and flickering intentions. Each bulb glows with the soft light of a good dream interrupted; warm, but never quite revealing. Shadows here are not cast but negotiated.

Desks drift slightly out of alignment, as if resisting categorization. Filing cabinets hum softly to themselves, locked