Paranoia floods the faces of those below. They see the watchers and wonder why they are there. How does someone with OCD enter the building? The cracks are everywhere. Too many to count. Step on a crack and you’ll break your mother’s back.
“Write about this bobby pin.”
Chaos gently flows back into order. Swirling spirals of flesh mix with the sea.
"Life is a digression.”
The self-conscious look up at those looking down.
“There should always be a button you can push to get out of death. You really should be able to change your mind.”
“The nurse would step in.”
Why is that gorilla wearing a suit?
The bobby pin floats in the tide. It occupies more of the sea and less of the flesh. One more line in the fragmented sea.
“I have something to tell you.”
A solitary beam of light escapes the alien ship held captive by poles and cables.
“It needs more lights. Preferably three.”
The guards stand watch. Don’t look them in the eye. Who guards the cables? Who guards the guards?
Follow the swirls. They’ll take you to Oz. Which one leads to Kansas?
The guards are everywhere, watching. Don’t let them see you mix with the sea and the flesh. Don’t let them stop you from following the path that leads towards home.
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