A man on a busy street corner full of voices and rumbling machines, sits at an eloquent bandsaw with a long line of women, children, and sad little men with humorless gazes. Each person in line digs in their pockets upon reaching the man and hands him a series of cards - credit cards, debit cards, member ship cards, plastic business cards.
The man at the bandsaw flips a switch and carefully cuts each card in the shape of birds, flowers, butterflies, and intricate lacing patterns. He hands them back to the owner and they smile, amused. They walk to a young boy who's furiously chewing gum standing next to a sky scraper riddled with scaffolding. Each person with their artful little cards gives the boy their card. He then leaps quickly up the scaffolding, removes the gum in his mouth and sticks the card to the glass/stainless steel building.
Climbing down and reaching the ground, the young boy puts another stick of gum in his mouth and waits for the next person.
* * *
A woman with hair that flows from her head like water kneels on top of a glassy summer lake, scrubbing wildly with a stiff plastic brush. The sun is blazing a reflection off the water.
I ask the woman what she's doing from the safety of a dock, she shouts back that nature's pristine and she's buffing the lake for that afterglow shine in preparation for the sunset.
* * *
A man sits in a gloomy room, intently writing on sheets of huge paper with little tiny script. He appears not to notice me. I look over his shoulder to see what his writing: "Strawberries, chocolate, coconuts, Ice cream, meatloaf, cheese, eggs..." The list gets longer and longer until he's filled up the entire page with a massive assortment of food.
He tares the giant piece of paper from the notebook and starts shoveling it into in mouth from the left corner closest to him. Sounds of crumpling paper and moaning sounds like thunder. After the entire sheet has been shoved, chewed, and swallowed he picks up his pen and starts writing all over again.
* * *
I feel the off white smooth ground, it feels of plastic. I am on a plateau of some sort with a wide blue line. The structure I am on seems to be perfectly square. I've no idea how I got on top of the structure. I jump as high as I can while looking in the distance. When I land the entire structure shifts rapidly downward and makes a clicking noise.
I realize I am on the number 3 button of my calculator that sits in my office.
* * *
A naked man lies lifeless on a long assembly line with rollers. A woman dressed all in white holds a black permanent marker and is writing something on the dead man with a nervous smile. After she's covered one side of his body, she flips him over and covers the other side. Having written something of some length on the man, she caps her marker and reaches into a coffee can on a table next to her. She pulls out an old Swingline brown stapler, climbs on top of the assembly line, straddles the man, and starts stapling the dead man's lips together.
"Now you just be quite," she says after putting eight to twelve staples through the man's lips. "You're an extrovert now."
The man at the bandsaw flips a switch and carefully cuts each card in the shape of birds, flowers, butterflies, and intricate lacing patterns. He hands them back to the owner and they smile, amused. They walk to a young boy who's furiously chewing gum standing next to a sky scraper riddled with scaffolding. Each person with their artful little cards gives the boy their card. He then leaps quickly up the scaffolding, removes the gum in his mouth and sticks the card to the glass/stainless steel building.
Climbing down and reaching the ground, the young boy puts another stick of gum in his mouth and waits for the next person.
* * *
A woman with hair that flows from her head like water kneels on top of a glassy summer lake, scrubbing wildly with a stiff plastic brush. The sun is blazing a reflection off the water.
I ask the woman what she's doing from the safety of a dock, she shouts back that nature's pristine and she's buffing the lake for that afterglow shine in preparation for the sunset.
* * *
A man sits in a gloomy room, intently writing on sheets of huge paper with little tiny script. He appears not to notice me. I look over his shoulder to see what his writing: "Strawberries, chocolate, coconuts, Ice cream, meatloaf, cheese, eggs..." The list gets longer and longer until he's filled up the entire page with a massive assortment of food.
He tares the giant piece of paper from the notebook and starts shoveling it into in mouth from the left corner closest to him. Sounds of crumpling paper and moaning sounds like thunder. After the entire sheet has been shoved, chewed, and swallowed he picks up his pen and starts writing all over again.
* * *
I feel the off white smooth ground, it feels of plastic. I am on a plateau of some sort with a wide blue line. The structure I am on seems to be perfectly square. I've no idea how I got on top of the structure. I jump as high as I can while looking in the distance. When I land the entire structure shifts rapidly downward and makes a clicking noise.
I realize I am on the number 3 button of my calculator that sits in my office.
* * *
A naked man lies lifeless on a long assembly line with rollers. A woman dressed all in white holds a black permanent marker and is writing something on the dead man with a nervous smile. After she's covered one side of his body, she flips him over and covers the other side. Having written something of some length on the man, she caps her marker and reaches into a coffee can on a table next to her. She pulls out an old Swingline brown stapler, climbs on top of the assembly line, straddles the man, and starts stapling the dead man's lips together.
"Now you just be quite," she says after putting eight to twelve staples through the man's lips. "You're an extrovert now."
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