We gaze up in equal parts wonder and fear at the giant sphere that has appeared above our city. It contains the dead husks of our aspirations in the form of hilarious nostalgia. Awk-waaaaard!
His eyes black. His body in repose. Staring at an infinite horizon forever. Never dying or even aging.
Remember bees? They are not dying out, their queens had led them to the safety of the sphere. They will be preserved through the coming tumult.
Celebrate diversity and inclusiveness at your next protest by not calling Donald Trump a nasty little-hands pisspig bitch.
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