The Z Trackers are coming. Slowly up through a crack, a train, a rent, or any imperfection. They are looking for someting, smelling for something, something that's like biting on tin foil. What it is we don't know. We do know that the Z Trackers are not going to be stopped by guns or knives. Smart researchers are already memorizing classical musical backwards in case they come early.
This was something you needed to know.
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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