The Grand Narrative

Remain ignorant of the unceasing. Invisible war, invisible love. Not a soul around and no need for an affray. The mobs, and gods, it’s an old trick but with the lithium treatment. Silent, glistening, the car parked the wrong side of the tree, somewhere here, somewhere the other side, searching hot seats, leather, .22 calibre marked on an exit.

Dubstep through town. Dubstep through speakers while he isolates the target. Windows down, this invisible age.

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FRAGMENT >>