I think the first thing to say would be that the sound was… incessant… the hum of a great bouncing ball shredded by the sound of light. There were shapes and fog, blue plumes of smoke that rose upward — and, as in so many other dreams, just when I thought I knew where I was, everything shifted once more. Three stripes, soft hair, hard feet, no collateral. I couldn’t tell who was in control: there were three shapes, like adult humans, but twisted like pliable, bent wire, unstoppable in their churning motions, yes, constant, but not frightening. And there were other children, too, and this struck me as comforting, for I was not alone and we were happy and focused as we went about our tasks.
Review by Sasha Amaya for Viereinhalb Sätze.