Webpages flash through my optic nerves. I flirt with the system.
Guatemala, average rainfall. Pi, 500 digits. Uzbekhistan, capital.
Girl, second row, great legs. Whoops, still connected to the
projectors. Press conference finished, long day over. Gulp sleeping
pills. Hyperlinked terrors drown my eyes. Must escape. Bloodied,
clawed-out eye sockets—but nightmares flood back in.
- In answer to the 2004.03.21 flashxer: “A fleeting thought”.
- Thanks to Baryon for editing.