Hilde Jægtnes
Located in a forest of dead fig trees, this viable spiritual hideout offers accommodation for many shades and sizes of obscurity or, at an extra charge, sickening clarity. Leave worn-out phrases at home and seek comfort in hidden ecstasy, slow down if you want, but don't diss compassion or live theatrical expression unless you want to see unflattering frowns. I once owned a toy bug glued to a spring in a fake walnut.
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