Ammi’s horse still pawed and screamed deafeningly in the road outside,
and nearly drowned its owner’s faint quaver as he mumbled his formless reflections.

H. P. Lovecraft, “The Colour out of Space”

I’m Viktor Eikman. Elsewhere I seem to lead an adult life, usually programming, sometimes for its own sake. These are my formless reflections.

Mostly winter in unnamed, typical, large, northern Norwegian fjord(s).

Solid craftsmanship. The narrator suddenly offers a strong opinion on the accidental killing of porpoises by the regi...

Viewed 2019-09-15. Ugly in unsafe old browsers.