Interlude
June 4, 2008The clock strikes 12 its lunchtime as his stomach tells him.
The eerie sound of flies buzz around as he opens his lunch.
The sound of computers talking about work fills the heavy air.
He listens to a tune in his head its Duran Duran
with a tint of Boy George.
What an akward mix of music…
How strange could that be?
As the music fades and dips into black
he finishes his meal and drowses for a power nap.
Walking through the endless galaxy of his dreams.
Waking reality seems unreal.
He wakes up and talks to the computer.
