Weird Fiction

the great thing about the line in the sand, is that it moves with the wind.

sun rise of prime # 13 million times 13 million 13 million times… new prime #

1, 3, 13 million

the edge looms large like miss spelling in new king James

the line, there oh yeah, denying as you like, but it, the line, the edge, roads end, there it lay and oohhh
you

taker of signs,
splitter of signwaves
aborter of the past which stand before
whilst the future taps QUAGCZAR on the back of its bulbous noggin.

yeah not ever even not ab ackspace to help you r
dreams of poets and the tales of travellers notoriously false?

the ream will run out
and no new prime will give
only strip,
yet in the hollows the potential
is largest

could you count your bottom $ o

r

yen

or

alksdfjaoi;sfriowhe4

or

qwerty coin

I want to tell you a little story, because it makes me warm inside.  A little conjecture for hertzian space in the aftermath of the DTV “transition.”  A humanoid is cajoled into purchasing a “revolutionary” box, connected to her television,  it promises to deliver peace and democracy instantaneously under the auspices of picture clarity and throngs of new programming. Well…the device doesn’t help her receive normal, let alone utopian, images or sounds. But she does  get “something” out of all those incoming cubo-futurist projectiles, compelled as she isn’t to fidget with the auto-scan functions.

Plagued by nightmares and searing pain in her head, all at 3:04 in the morning, culminating in intensity on the morning of June 12th, 2009 when she begins furiously writing in binary code.  Perhaps the binary code’s, 0’s and 1’s might be able to be translated? Indeed! It just so happens that a temporary autonomous clone, in the guise of an astrophysicist  forced  to work as a janitor, enters the code into his iPhone to decode the message.  A picture coalesces:

Some day, we’ll look back and laugh…