You are in a field. Little blue flowers, delicate, crown little blue plants. There are many of them. The weeds are nowhere to be seen. It feels nicer here, more pleasant, less of the eternal apocalypse grey.
- You turn your head to the side. Those little blue flowers. This could be better. Blue is not grey; blue is blue. Blue cannot be grey.
An ant invades your ear. You shove a finger in, seeking to squash it. Surely it can't survive. When you inspect that finger, you see the ant there, glued by earwax with appendages flailing. You flick that finger and the ant flies, never to be seen again for as long as you live.
Possible actions:
- Look back to the clouds
Inventory:
- You carry only a bent knife and a smashed radio. It has been a long ride. Your blue jeans are shredded; the T-shirt, stretched 2 sizes larger, is more red than white, and your shoes are unaccounted for. You wear a crumpled paper party hat.
|
