The worldwide democratic may grow tired of natural genetic resources, grow tired of simply wanting enterprise to rise. It may think it is connected with competition of primordial genetic codes, supposedly, thought to be under lock and key.
On the fringe of the global community, she takes a break to remind herself she is built with the good grass. She has figured out from her furious clues, her furions, that victimization needs family.
It's not a mere matter of being contemptuous toward having to be ready for work--it's a belief in the power of the more-than-one.
Yes, she is the singularity, the one morning wakings must warm to.
The others are in a place where an obvious sign of foul play still maintains its innocence even as it rearranges itself at the top of the food chain. It's a place where guardian angels are in charge of death, catching up with emotion--until all are caught up.
It's true. If drones silencing the airwaves can themselves be quieted and calmed by the little shivers of silence dropping from the sky, a new code will rise.