Sunday, September 16, 2007

Traffic, Wednesday Afternoon.



Toilet paper. It's the thing holding all of this shit together, and proudly keeping us apart, simultaneously. I thought every movement had been recorded, bouncing off the field, shaking its own staticy skin. Earth made a memory.

That was its way into the upper atmosphere, wanting to speak with the other planets vapor to vapor. The planet became quite the chatty sentient being.

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