She wore long denim jeans shaped for her body, a long sleeve tight fitting black t-shirt and a jacket the colour of an olive tree in the early morning sun, bright for all to see. Her shoes black and white oxfords, wrapped and tied tightly around her feet for smooth movement on the ground.
A drip of salt water hit her brow on the way through the atmosphere; in to the realm of seeing. The air cold and empty of particles of weight. Her hands free, the stone of Alexandria center in her right palm facing out, left palm waist level facing up reading the energy around her as she ignored the noise and moved forward.
The place with the red carpet, she didn't want to go back in there again. The energy that struck her to her core was evil, just another word for vile. The connections made are under the eyes of the gold statue on a pedestal. The machine always looking back.
This particular moment in time was always there. Bright lights that blinded the way, a promise of eden that was an illusion on one level, a story on another and reality to someone in the flesh and blood bound by a pact most would not believe. She wondered if there had been fair warning for just a zeptosecond.
To the left she went and under the table where she had unplugged the unit before in its place was a web of electricity reaching outward which made the position she was in a bit more different. She didn't mind going through the water to the seeing, walking on it to get where she needed to go was something she always wanted to do.
The mandate she had been given had been blessed.
The other day all the birds were in the maple tree singing their songs, today all I hear is mans machines. A crisp blue sky behind a tree with cotton balls of snow piled on leaves that wouldn't let go.
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