I’m wandering through an art museum, not seeing what the big deal is (no offense against fine art; I just prefer the work of comic-book legends Jim Lee, Glenn Fabry and Stan Sakai) when a bunch of hipster-artists (wearing berets and scarves of course) scoff at me. I turn and raise my eyebrows. “There a problem?” “Yeah,” one of them sneers. “You just walked past an Astara without so much as glancing at it, you ignoramus.” I ask, “What’s an Astara? Sounds like some bullshit dreamed up by a masturbation-addled World of Warcraft addict.” They let out cries of inarticulate rage and charge me, their stupid scarves ready as makeshift garrotes. I open my eReader to Echo. Magic flash. Armfuls of hipster bait—black-rimmed glasses, obscure vinyls, boxed sets of silent films—land in their midst and they’re suddenly transformed into savages, clawing at each other so they can lay claim to a mountain of crap that nobody wants. I make my escape as I see one of them bite into another’s cheek and tear away bloody strands of sinew.
Under every hipster elitist, you know there’s a raging cannibal that aches to taste flesh. Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here: Vol. 1 on Kindle. Vol. 2 on Kindle here: Vol.2 on Kindle. Links for Vol.2 on Smashwords/Nook/iBooks/Kobo are available here: Echo on other platform