In our most concrete of moments, we search for clicks, whirrs, and trans-tangents to suit our inner verbs and adjunct sails: that little something we can take home as a pocket-nod to resist the urges that home (and all her patterns) sometimes mothers us over with her one fell swamp. So here is a collection; sightings, of sorts, under the pen-plume of HUSO.

Undoing the dew, further inquiry can be implicated hither and thither.