The universe
is weird.
Good.

We don’t know who they are either.
We do know somebody packed snacks.

Stillframe collects the little moments science fiction usually cuts away from. The lunch breaks. The gardening. The three careful seconds spent lining up a pocket-sized eclipse.

Nobody needs to save the galaxy. A figure can kneel beside a sprout. A robot can water something that is definitely not in the manual. An alien can stop and listen.

Each entry stays small on the shirt and leaves room around itself. The drawings are sincere. The situations can be a little ridiculous. We think both things can be true at once.

Sometimes a hand needs mending.
Sometimes lunch develops an orbit.

We still keep a little space for what we cannot explain. We have simply stopped insisting it wear black.