smell/
| Rotten carrots. Fresh fish. Unburnt petrol.
Sweaty palms. Drunk tramps. Scented women. That smell. It was morning. It was the city. It was life. It was....horrible. His heart sped as he walked briskly to the office. He could start thinking. Great. |
||
| awake/ | Security card - in. Customary hello to
secretary - done. Cursory nod to hated accountant - groan. The smell was new, better. It was hot silicon. It was hot minds. It was hot ideas. It was his life. Falling gracefully into his chair he had his junk booting. |
|
| It was time to get lost. It was time to get
lost in his worlds. Millions already did. Whenever he started thinking, millions more were bound to. Click, click, click. The thinking began. |
milk/ | [ home ] |
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