city_sketch_pov_hronir paste! he got out of his place in line and happened to find another line. from there, he leaned to the sidewalk and picked up a guitar pick that a friend snapped in half four years ago. the pies were stepping in as emergency shock tactician as all of the vultures were more preoccupied with the intensity of circular smoke patterns emerging in the northwest segments of the city. he dodged the pies but one mushed against his right ear. when she stepped out of the building she asked immediately "when did you find time to shave?" he replied, "i wasn't THAT wasted last night." the other people in line spread out horizontally in waves that covered the rest of the street like a morphing transparent film, leaving just a few ineffective gasps and thus, no more line. he entered, she reentered. inside, the vicious display of masks were not at all terrifying, but the cultures that they represented were a little disengaging. one such mask was solid orange and perfectly rectangular and flat. it wouldn't qualify as a mask if it weren't for the diagonal half-inch wide slash that bisected it. he reached for the mask and strapped it on. she pulled a quarter from her pocket and slid it along the gash and then pushed it inside of the region of his right eyeball. he didn't move or say a word. she removed it and tried again. this time he fell flat on his face crushing the mask into hundreds of crystalline shards. she was wearing black at the time and the moment of the false turn and glance back, back at his quivering body, reminded the rest of the cameras that she was for real and there would be no end to the mechinization of the outer scopes of non-publicity. as in, this is not perilous, she will find a way out, they are the empire of the untested, he will awaken and remember some, forget some but move on and tell his friend of the busted guitar pick and she will quit her job now that her actions are permanently on the security of film and she being even more familiar to upper management. when the vultures return to the cityscape they will stall until finding new smoke patterns to fumble with. an hour passes, she has returned with bagels and they leave the entrance to the building hand in hand. the car that drives by their line of soon travel notices a little discrepency about the driver and the driver notices something new about the car. a few miles down the road the new information will really settle in for both. a few miles in the opposite direction, a dog collar escapes from the dog and falls to the ground obstructing the vision of a temporarily misplaced aluminum can that will find it's way into the trash receptacle in a few moments once the moderately challenging task of the owner in catching the dog in full pedestrian lunch hour can come to fruition and thus begin the subsequent return to pick up the collar, replace it on the puppy, set the puppy on the ground and in a moment of unrecognizable hope for the as-of-yet chairless 'coalition of hardly demonstrable acts of subtle energy conservation via near simultaneous and/or dual moments of action', grab the can and throw the fucker in the trashbasket. 021003 what's it to you? who go blather from