Tuesday, November 25, 2003

nervous people are stuck with asking elves. the aliens join the team. people wonder what 'time' it is. the elves are fresh and lonely, like pure light over the sea, or minstrelsy, the best kind. aliens are adept but struck by long passages. people aren't equal and haven't the gizmo to fix that. the elves appear from behind a tree. inner states, complete break from expectation. aliens survive as wordless expressions and desert wind stuff. people go to Vegas. miraculous clouds shrug off elvish and alien interference, whereas people can't do anything right. there's a war in Irag, by crackie, says an oldtimer, for what it is worth. this completely irrelevant phrase resonates against sea cliffs and desert hills. documents are prepared, that people might understand. where's the CIA right now? someone asks, seeming to 'get' it. crowds begin their vacation.

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