All posts by Tim Waltho

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Soft Naked Junky Machine

Favourite phrases from cut-up experiments: 1. Jackal hotel, dirty washbasins, mattress – oh the half way flea house 2. Americans with feverish hands beat at hot road; tarmac field of broken knees 3. Scum, break fluid, lantern, fireflies; typewriters all in unison 4. The seamstress

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Sicilian Escapade

“Next,” said Sinclair. The interface slid the image of a tundra wasteland away to his left, replacing it with a new display window depicting a desert scene; the fierce African sun setting behind the dunes as a silhouetted caravan of camels plodded towards the shimmering

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Farewell To All That

Billy knocked his third cigarette from the packet, brought it to his lips and lit it. From way up here he could see everything; the all-too-familiar roads, parks and neighbourhoods stretching out towards the coast, the whole goddamn, slumbering old city, glinting and glimmering in

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Sin-Away©

Squashed a spider? Ran a red light? Sinned against God and your fellow man? Got yourself a one-way ticket to the fiery pits of hell? Well, here at Sin-Away© we believe that a little wrong doing shouldn’t have to result in a life of eternal

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All God’s Machines

The numbers rolled and clicked like many mechanical eyelids beating out a metal butterfly rhythm. Below, Abraham Soloman stood wide-eyed, dry-eyed, not a muscle movement, not a single eyelid flicker; staring. He took in everything; the fleeting algorithms and numerical patterns flashing through LAX, SFO,