The blinds sway
in manufactured warm, dry, air.
A hard
drive echoes out an existence
through
its motorized hum
of gears and circuitry..
It
pitches then it falls.
Car alarms being heard
from a great far off distance,
ringing menacingly in a whisper
as an insulated call from the outside.
It’s
beginning to rain again.
Drip, drip, drip, goes the
window pain.
Frequently pacing,
methodically counting each and every step,
pausing when some pair
of counter steps walks past.
I
was intimately aware
of
the people around me.
They
are the inheritors
of the Magic Kingdom,
on an open road oblivion
that’s calling its disciples
home.
The
heat from our bodies creeps
through
vents in the ceiling,
mingling
with stars in the sky.
I think I hear them falling.
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