The Warp has its ghosts. The Warp does not like its ghosts. Memories of past travellers are the grit of warp pearls. Slowly the spirits are englossed and encased and then defaced. They become as truly dead as discarded phonebooks from improbably societies of genetically enhanced lemurs.
STRANGE SPANNERS being an accounting of strangeness of the warp and woof of my mind For those of you new here, think of this as 1/2 "Night Gallery" Our Motto: Nos somnium quisnam es futurus fatum quod insolitus tutus vos!
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