Changing my shape
I feel like an accident
~ Talking Heads ‘Crosseyed and Painless’ 1980
I feel like an accident
~ Talking Heads ‘Crosseyed and Painless’ 1980
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The windmill turns at the mercy of same wind that allows the kite to rise into sunlight on the end of its tether. Both allow the enclave light and power via trickle down from the charging batteries in the warehouse.
Daniel’s Power Management System, which cuts power to non-essential loads when the batteries start to run below a predetermined level, has meant that the last few days and nights have been blessed with half light and power limited to fridges and fence. Kay has undertaken to give everything a good clean; she hasn’t had access to the wires for over a week and she’s not sure how she feels about that.
The loss of her life raft, her usual escape to the glimpses of past colour that she usually finds when she is able to access some part of the web that, for whatever arcane reason, is still up and running within the limitations of the wires, coupled with the loss of both Joe and Marty, and the absence of Daniel and Alec, reduces Kay to tidying her magazines. After flicking through a few, their own bright colours struggling against the gloom she proceeds to broaden her cleansing circle.
Joe told her once that the Presidents and Kings had prepared for the collapse by creating underground bunkers that ran on nuclear power and it is via the AI installed in these bunkers that the web still survives, albeit in a pared down version.
Kay never likes to think about stuff like that; too many memories of where it led; memories of Bigmark, some she is still unable to face head on.
She is pulling everything out, tidying it up and wiping it down.
The wind rattles the loose slat on the commons roof, the one Lee is gonna have to fix as soon as he comes back from fucking around with the windmill.
Daniel’s Power Management System, which cuts power to non-essential loads when the batteries start to run below a predetermined level, has meant that the last few days and nights have been blessed with half light and power limited to fridges and fence. Kay has undertaken to give everything a good clean; she hasn’t had access to the wires for over a week and she’s not sure how she feels about that.
The loss of her life raft, her usual escape to the glimpses of past colour that she usually finds when she is able to access some part of the web that, for whatever arcane reason, is still up and running within the limitations of the wires, coupled with the loss of both Joe and Marty, and the absence of Daniel and Alec, reduces Kay to tidying her magazines. After flicking through a few, their own bright colours struggling against the gloom she proceeds to broaden her cleansing circle.
Joe told her once that the Presidents and Kings had prepared for the collapse by creating underground bunkers that ran on nuclear power and it is via the AI installed in these bunkers that the web still survives, albeit in a pared down version.
Kay never likes to think about stuff like that; too many memories of where it led; memories of Bigmark, some she is still unable to face head on.
She is pulling everything out, tidying it up and wiping it down.
The wind rattles the loose slat on the commons roof, the one Lee is gonna have to fix as soon as he comes back from fucking around with the windmill.
| Talking Heads | ||
| Crosseyed and Painless | ||
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