Friday The Furbteenth 📸
What better way to mark The Day of Horror than to stumble soul-ajar, into an art gallery thick with the psychic residue of Furby monstrosities? Their plastic gazes follow you, their synthetic chatter echoing like the chant of some forgotten cult, each one a cursed idol dredged from the neon swamp of childhood’s collective fever dream.
I laughed. Or maybe I screamed. It’s hard to tell anymore.