Wolverton

There is no sense of time, no sense of space, only movement. One is infinitesimal, the other infinite and the last is without relief, a current he has no power to resist. Quantized, Wolverton is dragged along and out in a long, twisting stream.

He is not alone: a multitude of presences swirl around him, whispering and chattering. He can’t make out the individual words; each voice is lost in a rising electronic scream.

It could have been an age or no time at all, but at last the wave crashes and Wolverton is left flopping and gasping upon the shore of reality.

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~ by Electro-mechanical Man on January 19, 2011.

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