Well, I discover with crushing inevitability and after the tragic mistake of having typoed ‘faultine’ into the RPS search engine before writing this up that Jim’s already covered it. But he didn’t write very much about it, and I liked it quite a bit, so I’m going to post this anyway, before grumpily going to find something else to write about too.
There’s a lovely little shop just across the street from my new flat. Sells everything – magazines, bread, kitty litter, a thousand magazines all featuring Cheryl Cole’s rictus grin on the cover… There’s just one problem. I have to go out the house and across the street to get it. If only I could temporarily bend space, compressing the distance so that I could simply lean out my window and grab a can of lemonade. Yes, I am that lazy. Faultline, however, is that fantasy.
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