12:00am 11:59pm Billing Day

looking out across the painfully white bright of the plaza, he sensed some movement behind him and in his agitated state, whirled about with his arms outheld bent at the elbow and crossed at the wrist.  he faced his own reflection in the glass but shuddered and shook at the knowledge of the minuscule machines – marauding, malignant – that comprised its seemingly silky surface.  an impulse boiled up to lash out and smash the pane, but was quickly replaced by the knowledge that no such event could ever occur.  any number of scenarios flashed before his now tightly closed eyes, in which the glass remained intact after repeated blows, absorbing each force as a source of energy, registering the heat signature from his fist, and redirecting all towards efficiency and productivity.  he grumbled and cleared his throat.  turning again to the plaza, he breathed deeply and stepped out.

eviscerated by the light.

This entry was posted in problems in prose. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s