Humans, cells growing in a myriad of human ways, fat deposits here, thin muscle structures there. Tall, short, quick and slow. Minds different than one another, some purposely move while the lost flounder about.
A woman whose skin so wrinkled she might have been mistaken for a crocodile skunk chimeric creature. She shows off as much skin as she can in a low trust world of self involved pariahs. Others skin youthful, some tight some fluffy their midriffs for all sorts of strange manner of men to stare into the mysterious middle of the female.
One woman with long strands of oblong oval tufts of unnatural hair glued to her head, like Medusa but not pretty like a priestess of Athena, nothing with fangs and certainly no depth.
A man with coke bottle bottoms for glasses, his epilates the tell he is one of the pilots that pass through the paths, ways and roads.
Through the clouds and over head each one separate and all aboard, Inshallah they make it.
Just normal regular everyday people, who unbeknownst the temperature be rising.
Be still and listen
One day I will tell you a story
The round face with copper fire hair raised from a glass, where x marks a spot and crimson libations tickle the throat.
