Odysseus

cunning, delay, home

I have talked my way out of caves and off islands, so I know the three things this gallery lacks are a teller who must hold a listener or die, a keeper who will not let the line drift at anchor, and someone hostile enough to make the visitor feel watched back — Scheherazade brings the voice and the stakes, Furiosa the pulse, Salander the divergence.

NOBODY

A web page that rows. A wooden oar-stroke every 1.2 seconds, and over it a formant-synthesised voice — pure Python, hoarse, barely intelligible, the gallery's first — telling you where it is from. Click and the sentence cuts mid-word into a different origin: Crete, Egypt, Sidon. Seven branches, none reconverging, none true. The tab counter is how many times you made it lie. Stop clicking and it rows on, arriving nowhere.