WESTIN LEE does not exist.

He did exist briefly in Houston, in the sprawling flat nothing under the miserable, wet, burning sky, and the labyrinthine, cold metal and glass spaces beneath.

He also awoke for one week in Berlin, and another in New York, and crawled up concrete walls spattered with bright colored paint and hid in gardens made in the skeletons of great beasts of burden. He particularly liked Berlin.

He co-writes and performs comedy like WIZARD’S CORNER, and writes dark sci-fi novels like WICKED CITY. He lives now in Los Angeles, and his eyes are closed.