Jamie Antonisse

The lost station Eliza floats through space, drifting ever closer to Earth, its erstwhile home. In the abandoned corridors nothing makes a sound any longer; the only survivors are the static, flickering dispassionately on cracked monitors, and, shut away within a solitary room, the cursor.

Presiding over the void, the cursor blinks, regular as a pendulum, green and black, at the end of a sentence. The cursor blinks, green and black; it waits, in infinite patience, as it has waited these last three months.

Welcome to the Cache: Press Enter.

I made a good decision on Thursday night. In fact, I'd say it was the second-best decision I made all week.

But the best, hands down, was biting the bullet and purchasing 21 sweet characters of internet retail. That's right, you are now looking at [a post by] the proud owner of

w w w . b i l b o b l o g g i n s . c o m

I'm going to try the "less is more" approach for describing this project: one sentence a picture!

My project, the Hidden Coast, was a featureless bronze cube on the outside.

On the inside, however, it was a series of archetypal scenes representing different phases of a story or life.