“We are such stuff as dreams are made of.” Smith quipped. “The Tempest. Act four…”
“…Scene one. And it’s ‘on’ not ‘of’.” I retorted. “It continues. And our little life is rounded with a sleep.”

Smith snorted. “Ever the pessimist. And yet.” He paused for effect. “I propose to travel forward in Time by one second.”

“Smith, you can’t. Except by the traditional route. Which just takes one second to do. Except we are moving in Space-Time. Not just Time. Only light can do that without feeling the time pass.”

Smith shrugged. I tried to explain. “The Earth spins 460m/s....

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Dane took another well-aimed pump at the car. The iron pipe splattered headlight glass all over the curb.

"Good fuck!" I sputtered, "What's wrong with your freako eyes?"

"I'm sick. Some sort of crow disease. Can't be helped. Hand me that roll of tape." He pumped his fist while taping diapers to the antenna with his free hand, reeling to some invisible unholy orchestra. Probably electro. Probably some sort of depeche mode shit zonking around in his gourd. His eyes bugged yellow and I knew he had finally gotten news that yes, it was cancer, and yes, it was hereditary....

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Sadie didn't believe Mother when she told her it would be a greater adventure than the ones she entertained in the garden. Mother squeezed her, kissed her cheek, and they all laughed once upon the summit. The air was so cold and dry it cracked the skin of her cheeks and it chapped her lips, yet it felt thin and clean, like the waters from the stream.

The ladies breathed heavily, hands on their lower backs, stays pinching them into a dazed sort of happiness. The men gallantly offered arms for them to lean on.

They lingered a bit longer...

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Heating nothing as I refrigerate.

Eating nothing as my body preserves.

We eat and are ultimately eaten.

Preheated, chilled and given to grubs.

We are products for sightless feeders.

Put a tag on me and ship me in a box.

Deliver me to the earth, to be opened up.

Reclined, collapsed, softened and served.

This oven of nothing is heated anyway.

I stare at the flames to assert my intention.

I am alive for now. For now.

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The border. He had. To find. The border. He'd made this trip a hundred times before and each time the damn thing moved. When he thought of it - if he thought of it at all - he imagined it as some kind of mystical shimmering veil. Except you couldn't actually see it. Couldn't map it. It might be there with the next step or it could take a thousand more and he never knew which it would be. He was pretty sure he'd been walking straight for it but... had he just been circling? Was he even heading in...

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I had to bind myself together. I could feel pieces of me falling away, an arm, my left toe, my sense of grace under pressure. My lips struggled to speak as my tongue became unattached, my teeth loosened in my gums. My heart threatened to beat itself right out of my body, and I feared that it actually would.

The curse of unbeing is a cruel one indeed. I thought this as I wound the linen around my eyes, working to keep them in my skull. I wondered what I could have done to anger someone of such great power....

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He laid back, eyes closed, a smile stretched across his face. Summer never felt so good; the sun beating down made him relaxed, and he felt like he could sprawl out on the grass all day long.

With eyes closed, his mind drifted to summers past, lying on the grass with his dog Buddy after catching a frisbee back and forth. His mind was in another place, somewhere peaceful, simple, romantic even.

A place where the sun rises and sets with beautiful colors, where the grass is plush and Kelly Green. A place where the sailboats against the sunset have...

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Thou wanted to enjoy his iced latte
Thou wanted to bring the mood down in this joint
Thou wanted these tourists to be gone
Be gone tourists!
Thou forsakes thee!
Tourists
Poseurs
Wanna bees
Beardos

Thou is the grumbly heart of your demise
Thou is real
Really real
So frightening

So fucking real

Thou is not on tourist maps
Pamphlets
Brochures

Thou will burn away all this fake tourist bullshit
Thou will bring the mood down
in
this
joint

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He sat in the truck parked on the gravel drive, his arm hanging out the window, a cigarette dangling from his finger. The radio was on and Bon Jovi's Bed of Roses was blaring.

She watched him from the behind the closed screen door.

He lowered the visor so she wouldn't be able to see his reddened eyes. Def Lepard's Pour Some Sugar On Me came on next, and he tweaked the volume nob. He could tell she was still looking at him.

He finished his cigarette and flicked it out the window. He took a long drink from the...

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I cannot be old as were, but I'll be as old...
No springs, no machination, no burn, can retreat the circle
but the circle will come round
--not old as were
Along the shore they did not remember
Walking until their flesh and their ligaments
Wasted
No mercy for the parched
And she stood staring from behind pa(in)
And he paced
And he destroyed
And he ripped--because
This is not the girl I wanted
This is not the girl I knew
This is not the girl I ordered
Custom made behind a pa(in) of glass
Darling or darling oh darling...

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