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Vuk Petrovi¿ once believed he controlled his destiny-until the day he collapsed in the middle of a corporate triumph. He awakens in a dreamscape turned malignant: corridors of shimmering cyan water that defy reason, shifting spa-rooms and neon-tinted shores where all sense of self decays. Every space is drenched in haunting beauty and unrelenting violence, riddled with echoes of a life he cannot truly remember. As a faceless caretaker stalks him through these liminal halls, Vuk teeters on the edge of oblivion, his mind unraveling with each new atrocity. At times, he glimpses salvation-a pink…mehr

Produktbeschreibung
Vuk Petrovi¿ once believed he controlled his destiny-until the day he collapsed in the middle of a corporate triumph. He awakens in a dreamscape turned malignant: corridors of shimmering cyan water that defy reason, shifting spa-rooms and neon-tinted shores where all sense of self decays. Every space is drenched in haunting beauty and unrelenting violence, riddled with echoes of a life he cannot truly remember. As a faceless caretaker stalks him through these liminal halls, Vuk teeters on the edge of oblivion, his mind unraveling with each new atrocity. At times, he glimpses salvation-a pink bathing suit adrift on tranquil waters, a meadow lit by an endless sun-only to watch that fragile calm devoured by cosmic indifference and savage need. Acts of brutality fuse with moments of surreal stillness, revealing a stark truth: in a world without mercy, memory splinters into illusions, and humanity itself is but a fleeting reflection. Slowly, Vuk dissolves, part prey and part monster, until he stands at the threshold of final acceptance-where violence coexists with serenity, and every promise of an ending is swallowed by the unwavering hush of cyan waters. *** Cyan Waters: A Story From the Poolrooms is an unblinking exploration of existential horror-a realm in which corporate greed and personal guilt seep into otherworldly corridors, and time is just a fading rumor. Within its tangled illusions of spa-rooms and meadows, the line between victim and caretaker blurs, reminding us that all existence might be nothing more than drifting waves under a pink sky that refuses to set. In this cosmic hush, where the last breath of memory evaporates, only the inscrutable Poolrooms and their merciless currents remain.
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Autorenporträt
I write weird, dystopian and liminal fiction. I'm also the creator of Beneath the Pavement.