Red fines on the legs, sketchy feelers of curious trails of ants and their penchant for sticking around. Turn, turn around and down amongst the fibres. Spots of dots move about looking to crack a hatch. Along one box, and down into the corner, they congregate for the morning and over from the night before.
Rats and mice cannot die when the ants feast upon their poison. Two sources and no answers for the questions.
Disappearing into the discolouration of the recycling box, the stain of sticky sugary residue is all that is needed to force out the cyclonic air. Ratcheting the back and forth to double up on the tasks, the shake down of dust breaks out the insect invasion. Like eating a gobstobber exploding with tiny spiders, the smell burns that hint of fake acid rain.
Not never enough to just stun them with the spinning vacuum air. Really rubbing it in to them with the face of a train ticket is what's needed. One clue that perhaps spending time dripping in the morning against the mere sight of disruption flows on and makes the early bird wish for more than just the morning of the day.
Wednesday, 22 November 2006
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Elemunk scrambles the loose connections bouncing about the mind of Soon Van.
Feel free to ask questions on any topic. Or spend some quality killswitch time poking about reading the vintage synapses
Or maybe a torrid trail of job interviews?
Elementary Funk by Soon Van is licensed under a Creative Commons License. Feel free to read up on the scope of the copyright over the posts and photos.
Writing gets tiring when you stop