EIGHT HUNDRED AND thirty - two . no more . no less . ( well — no one wants to IMAGINE more . ) the number of lives that have forfeited to this cruel & unusual charade / the number of lives they will never recover . little talk of the families . the friends . lives expended & histories wasted . this is the adjudicated value of a HUMAN LIFE .
the clicker resets . sixteen more partake in this sordid prologue of lives & lives & LIVES beneath this gargantuan foot . as for the six of them who are crowded around the monitor ... they are unprepared . they were NEVER prepared — not for the fifty - two editions prior , and sure as hell not now . a mutual silence like pulling teeth : no one dares open their mouth .
there’s a hand on touko’s shoulder — she is unsure whose it is . her fingers find theirs regardless , and there is a solemn silence that transpires in the cutting off of the circulation to her fingers . her other hand slides into kyouko’s , because the woman she glimpses sidelong in the monitor’s reflection — scares touko . “ ... you’re shaking . ”
STARTER YOUR ENGINES ! / ( @privatulo . )
