old images flicker across an old screen. old music crackles on old speakers. my eyelids and ears twitch.
the days roll across the floor in black and white and stutter against the furniture. my memory skips and continues on.
this is an old song. and i play along. eyes clenched, my fingers move in keyboard memory movements.
just under the surface of sleeping skin, the future swims. schools of infected fish. happy and eyeless.
never having seen the sun. soon. i will wake up and harvest my daily catch. and they will be set free.
into the underground sea. the giant festering wound that sleeps under every city. the endless miles of tubing and pipe. from one world to another. and they will dream, like i do. and they will sleep, like i do.
and the world will continue on its dance. stumbling and stuttering and skipping under a black and white sky.