At the escape the pistons fire incorrectly.
She frowns at the sound of hushed murmurs.
Bound and silenced, his captors forget.
In an instant, bang, existence.
Swallow-filled woods hide the shadowy fleet of marching barbarions.
Billowing stacks fulfill the dreams of green-eyed titans.
Misfired, misdeed, mistake but still someone is dead in Ferguson.
“You lie!” from the commons it comes changing discourse discordingly forever.
“Hello [long pause] tell me your location,” the sleepy 911 operator sighs.
Dosed off, door unlocked, debts unpaid he sleeps perhaps too well.
The far off chirp and the slight drip of sunsoaked cicles warns us that he will arise soon.
Logic gates flip bits determined to ruin fortunes.
She blushes at the his left left foot.
A scream reaches out signaling another miracle.