A story with pictures

Here is the story about how there is so much condensed into each moment, and here is the picture of how snappy so many decisions about so much information looks, so blurred around the edges, so lost in the lines of fast. It takes a while to get what we are looking at.

Looks more like the camera has some smear on it or like the picture spent some time underwater. I'm a go man and a stop. I put places on the map and send the map to Venus. I've been sleeping in my mind clothes and I have the aroma of sharp sleep in need of a rouse.

And then there is you. You who have stepped in and modified. You who have turned on all the lights and endured my grouse. Put feathers on its trail and called in the authorities. Left bits of dust in the air on your way out.

All these books with all these word mountains. I have send miners in and built cities with the gold. My erection was defiant. I laid waste to all comers. I hid my momentum in deep valleys. There was so much I wanted.

But I noticed the king was absent. There were very few who knew. The guards were fooling around with each other's ex. They were busy fixing their teeth and posing for the cameras they knew were everywhere.

The baker had replaced his pride with profit and was planning to move away. The secretary wanted to run the gears, the mechanic became a vegetarian. The plants wanted locomotion. The miners were too busy getting laid. The phone lines only propelled questions anymore.

The past was mixed in with the slaughter of the present. Mandates were doled out from the thinnest. An impatient captain knew he was better looking and moved into the center and made speeches while the books held silent vigil. There was no correction.

This is the latest picture I have from just after the king's return. That just looks like blood. Forget how ravaged everything appears. The astronaut had the greatest news. Kept saying to look beyond this little operation. Kept shouting it over and over.