color

The fringe knows something. The fringe always knows.

The grape appears twice its natural size somehow.

Case routed to Window 3. Permit pending.

Laughter dressed in medals, history made plush.

Darkness breathes, and something thin watches from above.

Cold scales behind glass, waiting on human tides.

Dryer 1014 holds someone else's clothes, still tumbling.

Everyone absorbed in screens, missing the smoking bread entirely.

Four figures gather around a glowing crystal ball.

Man lifted by rocket chair, crowd cheering below.

Morning ritual, shared between flesh and strange stone.

Strange creatures share a table, the world holds its breath.

Even anthropomorphic animals expect impeccable table service.

A man in a suit stands near two ducks.

Science class tried, AI labels tried harder, mostly.

Some days the laundromat handles more than usual.