the faint hum

The sound of the machines that never goes away, the last thing I hear at night and the gentle breath that greets me when I wake up before anyone else. Like the sigh of the wind through ancient tree-bound mountains, with flashing leds and un-set clocks.

Brendan Peveril, freelance writer of fiction, non-fiction and comics.
beneaththeearthscrust: I enjoy Crumb’s more tender work.

beneaththeearthscrust:

I enjoy Crumb’s more tender work.

(via omerart)

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