Andreas Robichaux

Archipelago Dystopia

Errol looked back in his mind at the reel that projected the past. As though, on a shelf in the corner of his inner sanctum, he picked up a dusty, old film spool and brushed it off to reveal a white label with the name ‘Michelle’ handwritten in red sharpie. He loaded it into the ancient projector that began to reel and whir in his third eye and settled in with the nostalgia of a beloved classic like being swallowed by a family sofa.