The cubicled server rooms. A faint hum buried in the projection of cool air.
Monitors and screens blipping and imaging.
Vehicle after vehicle exploded.
Said to be the sundial of savages, the shadows where one can read the absence of the thing represented. Only during daylight of course.
A phone held out. "I'm sorry. No, I'm not sorry. I'm running out of patience. Sorry." (i)Cough. Look at thi...
No comments:
Post a Comment