There’s a story about this old courthouse and a twelve-mile circle, but I forget it. I’ve been staring at it since the plant let me go, but it’s completely slipped my mind.
You know that feeling? Like someone’s sprayed your brain with Teflon? How the wrong words start spilling like Freon from your mouth?
The wind rustles my Nylon jacket. The Tyvek grass crinkles beneath my Neoprene behind. I lie back and wait for the Mylar moon to rise across an expanding Spandex sky.
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hurray!
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