still trespassing

Greg Fallis

Maybe fifteen feet from the previous photograph. Light was bouncing around in perfectly logical but weirdly complex ways. You could follow the logic of the light -- you could retrace the paths and patterns and say to yourself 'Yes, of course, the light has to be right there -- at this point in time, on this date. There's no other place it could possibly be.' It was all so precise and inevitable and predestined, I felt like I should slaughter a goat or something.

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