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my life as an imperial spy as seen through the filter of my wakefulness - 8 or so bees in my bonnet [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
8 or so bees in my bonnet

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my life as an imperial spy as seen through the filter of my wakefulness [Apr. 9th, 2009|11:36 pm]
8 or so bees in my bonnet
[music |amon tobin - supermodified]

had to flush out something
over the road.

down below my balcony vantage point
next to the river

i receive my insructions

i am dropped in at night. a very snowy, crispy night
made my way slowly through the broken cabin
dressed in black
like some evil milk tray man


as i crushed the occaisional patch of snow
i edge forward aiming my pretend gun.
(it weighs nothing)
although it does have laser targeting
which is twinkling with the steam from my breath.

i arrive at the main greenhouse
where the deadly research is going on.
the tobacco plants looked lovely in the bright moonlight

i looked through my sights as the researcher's wife and child escaped
through the back door.

i was relieved
i really didn't want to have to pretend shoot them.
with my weightless assault rifle.

my consciousness cuts to a remote control helicopter
viewing the scene as the wife and baby
make their escape in a speedboat across the river.

i make a few swoops just to let her know i'm buzzing her.

as i cross the road back to my room in the abrams building
i find that i am either a pixie or
the massive jugganauts thundering down the 20 lane avenue
are enormous.

the abrams building is a guggenhiemesque apartment block
the building next door is a marvelous towering organic pagodalike structure
i wonder what goes on in there?

in my bladerunner room i am told by the powers that be
that my mission has failed
i am told to strip.

i am berated by a jury of other naked failures

i feel at home.
i am struck by a bolt of lightning
i wake up.

0 shots fired.
1 criterion met
0 medals earned