The letters were dancing on the sheet of paper. They kept moving and moving. A few minutes ago, they formed words. He could remember that. He could even pronounce them and they sounded normal. But right at this moment, they had lost their meaning. He had been looking at them too long, and repeating them for too many times. He knew that. He closed his eyes, and he tried to remember when they held some sense, when he understood them. Maybe this would come back later. He had no certainty of it […]
« Absurd Strict Rabbit », John Arnyeck, Lost Editions, 132 p.