Love the tunes, love the cover, love it all.
This is where K. Oyston taps into our own intangible sense of nostalgia.
That tune.... it grabs... it tugs at the imagination... the brain asks "Is this memory or is this new?" We know this.
Goddammit we know this!
And yet it is new.... brand spanking new...
Unique, original, utterly transporting...
But it tugs...
It pulls...
And we know it.
We have always known it...
From those early years watching the flickering monochrome adventures in space, to those half remembered dreams and half forgotten memories, Oyston clambers into the space between memory and imagination and sits there waiting...
Ready to pounce...
And yet it is new.... brand spanking new...
Unique, original, utterly transporting...
But it tugs...
It pulls...
And we know it.
We have always known it...
From those early years watching the flickering monochrome adventures in space, to those half remembered dreams and half forgotten memories, Oyston clambers into the space between memory and imagination and sits there waiting...
Ready to pounce...
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