Wind Song

A bolt of lightning leaps at me, but I’m ready to catch the thunder.

Electrocution is a possibility, as much as being activated by a divine force.

I call the winds to help me decide, but they are busy pushing stubborn clouds.

Those tiny people sitting behind rectangles in concrete structures speculate on various things, on a device powered by the World Wide Web.

They fuel the world with volatile emotions faster than the winds. They invent multiple gods to unite their tribes.

May we penetrate networks faster than they manufactured those, and may we succeed in holding it together!

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Friday Fictioneers