Brain exercises and a cruel glimpse.

Across the table, spoon-on-cup sounds and the crunch of rough biscuits. Crumbs made their way into the cracks on the old Oak surface. It reminded me of tiny bugs scrambling in terror from a newly lit lamp. Three feet between mouth and table is the difference between being good food or another soldier in the dirt army. By the looks of this place, that army had come, seen, and conquered long ago. The owners of the small cafe had adjusted to the new rule, and in their old age, had no spirit to fight against the regime.
Lightning strikes outside and the Dodo bird rolls in his grave. Strange pictures in the rising dust. Horned faces eating each other in the swirling madness. I could hear a muffled laughter, or at least I imagined that I could. It was a very surreal scene with the pale green light shining through the clouds. The fluffy animals and shapes had been replaced by a sweeping tide of thick choking foam. Looking up, it was as if the whole world had drowned. Somewhere, a flash in the distance, and then heat and darkness.

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