NEW FICTION:

He expanded the vision, breaking through the vaseline lens of feint reality - with the blink of a lazy eye. He knew that there was nothing really here, that 'normal' was in fact a broken cycle of events that never mattered - how could they? He saw the vision, saw more than, he was more than. Oceans drifted, skies roared and rolled. He held up his hand, only to see it measured across molecules and atoms, across galaxies and nebulas. His extended fingers tapped between the spaces, tapped the dull-bass rhythm that pulsed through his head, pulsed through all those molecules and atoms, pulsed through all those galaxies and nebulas. He blinked again - lazily, knowing that it was real, that it had always been real, that the vision was the same, and had always been the same, just as he was, and always would be.