trash_stratum
Words, words, words. How funny that I used to think they could be mine… as if they came from me? They are alien data, a virus infecting me, moving through me, coming out thick and black like chain (letters).
almost
Each time I tell myself no, don’t you dare but then I pick up the receiver and hold it tight against my ear and the whole thing starts again.
we know where you live
“Someone always gets hurt. Someone always dies.”
black box
I’m closer now. No lights on but everything glows. I look for signs under the elevated train tracks.
Ooze
But that’s the thing, the longer I don’t write about what happened the easier it is to just go along with what the two of them say, how I’m the chosen one, someone with a rare experience of having provided an experimental AI model from the future with a deep well of esoteric analytic capability.
Another Mirage
His name is a part of me, just like his stories. A fabrication imbued with truth. Or truth imbued with fabrication.
A Beautiful Death
You want to be a good friend and you want to be a good person but it’s hard when you like movies better than real people.
Signal
We formed a straight, then curvy, then jagged line as we passed another Baby high up in a Pine tree, looking out while I was looking in, bits of poetry forming in my mind that I threw at the scene, scattered like clues for the detectives to find.