Lightning foments a way and a path is chosen. Spun like the glowing fire in the eyes of a million-thousand rabid hamsters encircling the golden arches. Jagged lurches of indecisive least cost paths flowing from the feathers of a white pigeon nesting just above the promotional poster of fingered chicken. That is fast food.
Diorama of sundered krishnas fleeing a cracked hammer of thor through the darkened skies. Eaten as the feasted ghost of the valhalla. That is glamdring.
Dragon-ships ply the skies conveying bits and pieces of bit pie. Wandering the coppers of insulated world of uncertain collapsing certainties. That is intertubes.
Short of this last miracle mile, this is the damanged kilo.
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