Somebody

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It was the disruption Nobody couldn’t stand. These outsized egos forcing their way above everyone else’s heads, grabbing all the light and air for themselves. They were flaws in the smooth, continuous surface that Nobody loved to run his fingers over, like lumps of gravel embedded in fine china. He desperately wanted to sand them down to the level of their surroundings. It was tricky, though. If you sanded too lightly, you could be working for years before you flattened out the offending protuberance. If you sanded too hard, you could end up popping that sucker right out ofthe porcelain, leaving a ragged hole, which was a different kind of disruption.

Then again, these lumpy ego-things weren’t really rocks. They were biomatter, made of neurons and connective tissue.  That was stuff you could work with, malleable. Nobody just needed to find the right tool to make the offending ego-blobs take the right shape.

It had been hard, taken a long time. But Nobody had finally found the right tools.

Nobody

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The elimination of personality was Nobody’s mission. It began with adjectives. Early worm designs simply deleted them, ripping meaning from posts like “my adorable orange cat has turned our bathroom into a toxic nightmare zone”.

My cat has turned our bathroom into a zone.

Nobody felt this was still too distinctive, and began work on ways to destroy most verbs. Only the many forms of “to be” were allowed to live.

My cat was our bathroom is a zone.

Possessive pronouns were the next to go. Declarations of ownership were too much, and had to go.

Cat was bathroom is a zone.

Articles were obviously self-indulgent. They were next on the worm’s menu.

Cat was bathroom is zone.

Nouns became the next stone in Nobody’s shoe. Too many, too much unpredictable variation. Nobody built the next generation of the worm with a voracious appetite for them. They were devoured, leaving only ‘it’ behind.

It was it is it.

After further thought, Nobody realized that tenses were ego-driven distractions. Why that hadn’t been obvious from the beginning, Nobody could not say.

It is it is it.

For a while, Nobody felt satisfied. Then the overbearing obnoxiousness of contrast began to wear thin. The way those crisp and busy lines marred the blank perfection of the backgrounds. It could not be countenanced. But rather than tell the worm to simply erase text, Nobody simply instructed it to leach out the pigment. Only bloodless text remained, leaving space to mark it’s presence, but no weight to mar the page.

It is it is it.

It is it is it.

It is it is it.

It is it is it.

It is it is it.

Airless

airlessThe windows were drowned in clotted, greasy paint. The scarred wooden doors were swollen from humidity and wedged tight into their jambs.  Metal vents in the floor were clogged with some unholy mixture of paper mache and rancid cooking fat. The room seethed with light and heat from old style high wattage incandescent bulbs screwed into wire cages at the ends of thick and grimy orange power cords. Breathing drew dust and solvent into the lungs, along with just enough oxygen to stay awake.