Above the list of several fake followers, there rested a humble being.
In spite of the crises evolving in the rest of the world, beings like him (or her) would find for themselves the part of space that served the purpose of a mellow sanctuary.
The birds were whispering secret thoughts in his ears.
He was only listening to the melodies clustered over the fabric of the worldly chaos below.
Some would have mistaken him for a god.
Some would have shunned him as an outcast.
But such were the times that no one cared for such thoughts and behaviors any more than the wooden posts hanging as relics of ancient cell phone towers.
The world had gone busier than a swarm of bees if they were OCD and high on acid spiked with cocaine and coffee.
One could just not remain indifferent to the tidal waves of change that were now gushing through history like some battle fleet about to erupt from the shadows of frighteningly ambiguous depths.
Below him the singularities accumulated in the form of a multitude of restless motions and dreams.
The turbulence of the universe had infected the core.
It was no more like it was before.
Collective minds remained suspended in some washed out medium of colluded conundrums.
Burning deep within them remained a clandestine flame of an image of freedom.
The thoughts were far from here and now.
The crowds were no more indistinguishable from the gassy sound effects ringing in the air as the wind pushed the clouds.
His thoughts exactly.
Why were the winds moving so unidirectionally for the past few months?
The weather reports seemed like hazy recollections of noise.
The pieces of the puzzle were seriously missing.
The data remained hidden like a secret flame within, safely guarded by the layers of disbelief and doubt.
Only decadence appeared to be the potential solution out of this self-induced Ennui.
The sounds had begun to get louder as he struck a chord on the metal seat he was so carelessly perched on.
The bullet whizzed by barely missing him.
He was startled into action.
The next shot hit him in the head, penetrating his skull and lodging momentarily in the occipital lobe before exiting out from the temples, like some mythical hero emerging out from the backdrop of a dying world.
A clean shot,
thought the hunter with no name.
After this everything was the same:
The world instantly disappeared.
The view was replaced by a different type of being.
Some sort of a soothing hum persisted.
Breathing was no more an effort like it was just a few minutes ago.
Some sort of suspended animation seemed to shift through his entire body.
2 cells became 4 and within a few days there was a blastocyst.
