The sky was perfectly clear, he began to count each bright point, giddy knowing he could never complete the task.
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Remaining sane in an insane world was exhausting. He dragged himself to another meeting and told himself that he was an anteater, that he was a big old craggy tree, that he was a fresh dewy field.
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I thought owls were solitary, she said. Yes, he said, it’s very unusual to see several dozen together looking at us like that.
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When the hermit emerged from his cave he discovered the surrounding land had been built up into collaborative work spaces. Tidy concrete paths full of people looking down at their phones. Kitchens full of expensive fresh juice.
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The sun was sinking behind the ridge. They were lost. All they had was the holographic brochure and their complimentary pepperoni flavored Yum Incorporated Endurance Bar.
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A second look at the contraption revealed tendon-like connectors and a quiet, gentle pulse of advanced lymphatics.
Pneumatics were crucial to the project, he was told repeatedly, although the latest reports indicated nothing but bees.
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After ten the doors were locked. They huddled below the overpass with the drunk Zamboni driver, the depressed sheep shearer, the geek, the disgraced Prime Minister.