Dribbles
Through the ground and air. Through Sun and Night There is a crackle of life. Power flowing over the world like waves on an ocean. It surrounds us, it molds us, informs us, serenades us, and divides us. All Man’s Ideas Incarnate found between eighty eight and one zero eight.
Drabbles
The Prickly Personification.
Across the plains, through fields and wastes. Molded by spite and stabbing. There is a life through the pain. Green where there should be gravel. Fruit where there is suffering. Water behind the pain. Behind those that are tumbling on, between sand and sky there is an enclave of life. Home to those that can brave it, life to those that can pierce it. It’s exsanguination can save those that are lost. Seen as a pest, as scum, as weeds, cut down and cast out. Broken and burnt, forgotten and fought, vilified and vivisected. All because of the tiniest thorns.
The Car that Wouldn’t Die
The car was what they called smart. The Car could “read” the owner's mind to a degree. Find out where they wanted to go, find out what they wanted to buy, what services they desired.
Travel to Florist, Drive to Sam’s House, Head to Pharmacy.
The car was good at finding out where the owner wanted to go. Sometimes they said things, asked their phone, or it was found from the look in their eye. Algorithms were getting better every day.
Travel to National Forest, Drive to Church, Head to Funeral home.
Even if the car was carrying a corpse.
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