#doom'd

It was a stale detail that nobody wanted. The robots volunteered and the long shot was up and running. Almost as soon as it started, through an act of god, the training exercise was finished and the real world example became fourth dimension actuality.

The craft with a blindingly shiny paint job suddenly reversed, the darted away, seemingly under him before he completely lost sight of the ship. Had anyone else seen it? Where was everyone?

Frank DeLand couldn't believe what he was seeing and that was a first for him. He wasn't sure if he should tell his commanding officer that he'd witnessed a titanium plated spaceship turn on a dime and take off in the opposite direction before entirely disappearing, becoming invisible to radar, caught in his perennial blindspot, mocking his memory, causing him to doubt his own eyes. That'd never happened to Frank before and clearly, he was shaken by this realization.

Still, the conundrum remained as he landed his F57 stealth mode vulture, the air force's cloaked fighter jet that mopped up the fallen with brazen invincibility. Until today.

Sure, he'd been in attendance at the last press conference when Commander O'REILLY told the press corps that we now had cloaking capability, like the Klingons, and recovery mechanisms that literally kept our hands clean.

The raptors had been a stealth hunter. The vulture was like the Wolf in Pulp Fiction. You called him when the scenario you found yourself in became untenable. And bloody. The vulture thrived on carion, the menu no one else wanted.

Frank had to return later as duty called and couldn't be put on hold...

purge the algorithm

jet engine heart racing rundeo

Transformation

Never less than the riche

adaptation of matériel

resources, Moving from

one room to another

without hesitation,

embraced true to form

A block where the head

would be situated made with

concrete slab transparency &

suspended from the ceiling

like Raskiolnikov's axe, floating above the scene of the crime as if to incriminate an oppressive nature of the landlord "classe," which will he the first to go when the world order becomes "new" again

The catalyst beyond the aforementioned details, of umbrage expressing grievances, carving up slices of need for those who take

when, in an instant all at once,

we found essential fire starting

tool on loan for the hunger artist's presentation in 344 square feet, as she simultaneously plants a flag for all the pencil towers in HK's concrete jungle

a place of cashmere fevers functionality of desire

Conscious consumption

No remorseful morsels

no impromptu regret

That tastes like bitterness enveloping the lonely passage of Time. A déplorable member of the human race waiting to exit under Sartre's "No Exit" sign, dejected and sparse, z reviling revolving door that never allowed you to step off.