Goodnight Dalus. Rest well.

Goodnight Whatters.

Goodnight. Rest well.

An age before little gray man conformity, an age of polite probing. I am fond of Mr. Gribble’s navigation of the strange.

Goodnight Anny. Dream deep.

You too Sharon. Goodnight.

Goodnight QM. Rest well.

Goodnight Danica. Rest well.

Goodnight. Rest well.

He is on the Lazarus. Goodnight MH.

Goodnight Fiona. Rest well.

I've not done a substack in years, keep planning to restart elsewhere. Goodnight Dr. BAD.

Goodnight Scott.

Goodnight Heather. Rest well.

Mr. Mustard's sausages are rather good. Goodnight to you both.

Goodnight MY. Rest well.

Thank you. I try to avoid the obvious. Hookland is of course a place of strange angles.

Goodnight Sinead.

Goodnight from the all-night sausage stall on Ashcourt’s Markham Street, where gossip about the Smiling Man is an engine of shudders. Goodnight from The Half Moon, where Joxy Collins is convinced the stuffed crow perching on its walnut bar just blinked and cawed at him. Goodnight from Hookland.

Proper.

Inside the witch is a library of feral spirits, a hundred books that need not be written for their knowledge is best told by tree root and hedge blossom. Her living practice is a curation of wonders and wild wisdom. – #EmilyCBanting, 1982 #WitchSky

DM for details.

It will have be before I pop my clogs, which is beginning to loom in a somewhat alarming fashion.

Some will claim phantoms patrol places of broken stone due to a persistence of pain. That ruins are haunted because shades are bound to them by trauma. Is it not possible that many ruins have their ghosts in the ordinary way, spectred for nothing more than once being home? – #CJosiffe #Ghosts

Goodnight Danica. Rest well. Dream deep.

Goodnight Anny. May your sleep be a balm.

National UFO Reporting Center (1976) - Part Two YouTube video by Eclecticopedia

www.youtube.com/watch?v=n95u... My dark hour listening. Goodnight.

Thank you Sharon. Goodnight.

Goodnight QM.

Goodnight Sinead.