Jean Fragonard The Love Letter

Jean Fragonard The Love LetterJean Fragonard The BoltJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida The Two SistersJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida MariaAlexandre Cabanel Ophelia
occasionally where the walls of the worlds have worn a bit thin, they can leak in.
And reality leaks out.
The effect is like one of those deep-sea geysers of hot water, around which strange submarine creatures find enough warmth and food to make a brief, tiny oasis of existence in an environment where there shouldn’t be any and the gale became nothing more than a faint breeze.
It blew sand over the long-dead remains of afire.
Further down the slope, near a hole that was now big enough for, say, a badger, a small rock dislodged itself and rolled away.

A month went by quickly. It didn’t want to hang around.
existence at all. The idea of Holy Wood leaked innocently and joyfully into the Discworld. And reality leaked out. And was found. For there are Things outside, whose ability to sniff out tiny frail conglomerations of reality made the thing with the sharks and the trace of blood seem very boring indeed. They began to gather. A storm slid in across the sand dunes but, where it reached the low hill, the clouds seemed to curve away. Only a few drops of rain hit the parched soil,