The letter T is unusual in the sense that it can be worn and also drunk. Micro-process said letter and it can also be stitched, torn, sweetened and in our case, spilled. We are also unusual, in the sense that if Alice left London exactly today, she’d find herself plastered on a computer screen wondering where the hell her rabbit hole had taken her. Or if Dorothy’s tornado had wooshed her away, not to a dreamy Munchkin village but to an endless land entwined with Gordian knots of story-string. Writers are perhaps the best travel agents in the world. Let us be your Charon and ferry you through, to the worlds under our words. Star-chart your standstill nights and come all, for the saucer is about to break.  

Escape, and if you wish, never return.