Digital Ischemia



Filed under: Jalopy — Teepwriter @ 11:15

The unclouded sun glows inside your eyelids. Pink, orange, brown artefacts morph absorbingly. You resist your brain’s predisposition to recognise the patterns.

The front of your body warms a little too much. The intermittent breeze regulates your skin between burning and goosebumps. As each gust wanes, the sweet, dusty scent of dry grass wafts over. The seed heads tickle your face and arms. A skylark vanishes into the atmosphere, perfectly scoring the glorious moment.

Nicol skims over the moor again. You know when it’s him because the breeze is cooler.

You sit up to pay attention. You’re supposed to be sentry as well as spectator. Patches of skelped heather could be unusually vicious deer or incompetent forestry, but here they are anti-gravity trials and errors, or ‘per-force’ as Nicol has quaintly branded it.

With deference you recognise how effective the camouflage is. You imagine you detect tiny incongruities in the sky, but only because you know to look for them. You listen out for the faint hiss of shearing air and reach out for the cool breeze.

You savour the idyllic moment of advancement, banishing your pessimistic expectation. Only this driven Neanderthal would be exhilarated by launching without landing capability.

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