by mIEKAL aND & Maria Damon
photography by Camille Bacos
They continued to live in the house many years after it collapsed. The real secret was how to get inside without disturbing the unbelievable fungus colonizing the exterior. Many secrets, in fact, were encouraged to take root amid decaying crevices in hopes that they might multiply and eventually yield clues from beyond the veil.
Rain down on me, bright lichen, and bring a bright message from the angels of the lyre. There was singing from the bone-harp and thrumming from the finger-twigs, and by and by the house itself shimmied to the sweet strains of the Little Girls’ Spiritual Choir.