Ficlets

Bibacity

Soldiers of the New Wave, beware of the machines possessed by some, for they are to be feared by all. Give me a good look in the eye. There was a night when I caught you trapped beneath the Bear Bridge, is this not true? I remember fondly those red eyes, stressed from river water —panting breaths -- smooth exhaustion - buckets to puke violently into in fear. Good times at the Bear Bridge, where the Bleach Heads hang their towels. Good times at the Bear Bridge and the images those memories tend to invoke. Like a body with gray skin. Like finding the remnants of another world, crushed within the muck. Bear Bridge, where the Taxi Police hid the defects of the FEED Machine.
“Those poor men!” you screamed in disgust. “Those stupid guinea pigs and their bastard ways.”
“Who did this to you?” I asked the man in the mud.
He replied, “I’ll bet morning ain’t as bad as the night.”

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