There's another line on the London underground called the Masochuticon. It's on the maps, inked in bright radio; the frequency of its colour is to the colour-range we see as visible light is to the slow rumbles whales bellow across the ocean. Its stops are at anyone who has ever thought of it, and it leads where any of those people go.
There's another line on the London underground called the Masochuticon. It's on the maps, inked in bright radio; the frequency of its colour is to the colour-range we see as visible light is to the slow rumbles whales bellow across the ocean. Its stops are at anyone who has ever thought of it, and it leads where any of those people go.