""Sometimes the mannequins get behind my eyes I feel them tugging the strings of my nerves playing with my mechanisms They make themselves at home in the lumber room of my skull.."" James Knight's latest collection of poems and prose poems takes
""Sometimes the mannequins get behind my eyes I feel them tugging the strings of my nerves playing with my mechanisms They make themselves at home in ...
""The mannequins are here again. I can feel them throbbing in my ears. Theyre standing around in the kitchen, impassive as stone. But inside theyre laughing. Im not getting out of bed for them, not this time.""
In the Dark Room is a surreal novella written and illustrated by James Knight, author of Head Traumas. The story is narrated by a bedridden man who finds himself besieged by memories, fantasies and the mannequins at the bottom of the stairs. Knights combination of words and pictures invites us into a strange yet familiar world, governed by the logic of a dream.
""The mannequins are here again. I can feel them throbbing in my ears. Theyre standing around in the kitchen, impassive as stone. But inside theyre la...
""The mannequins are here again. I can feel them throbbing in my ears. They're standing around in the kitchen, impassive as stone. But inside they're laughing. I'm not getting out of bed for them, not this time."" In the Dark Room is a surreal novella written and illustrated by James Knight, author of Head Traumas. The story is narrated by a bedridden man who finds himself besieged by memories, fantasies and the mannequins at the bottom of the stairs. Knight's combination of words and pictures invites us into a strange yet familiar world, governed by the logic of a dream. This special edition...
""The mannequins are here again. I can feel them throbbing in my ears. They're standing around in the kitchen, impassive as stone. But inside they're ...
""A brilliant piece of work."" Jeff Noon, author of Vurt, Falling Out of Cars & The Automated Alice The Bird King is mad again. He caws through empty midnight streets, moulting tar-black feathers. James Knight's poetic account of the weird world of the Bird King is accompanied by Diana Probst's beautiful, unsettling watercolour illustrations, rendered here in full colour. Look the Bird King in the eye, see into the clunking clockwork of his dark heart.
""A brilliant piece of work."" Jeff Noon, author of Vurt, Falling Out of Cars & The Automated Alice The Bird King is mad again. He caws through empty ...
A coffin or cocoon, a hollow container. To avoid disappointment, dont expect to find a fleshy thing pulsating inside. On Valentines Day its common practice to express amorous feelings by sending the object of ones desire a greeting card, depicting an internal organ, skewered on a sharp implement. So much for romance. Knock knock. Whos there? No one, just a voice, echoing grandly.
A coffin or cocoon, a hollow container. To avoid disappointment, dont expect to find a fleshy thing pulsating inside. On Valentines Day its common pra...
