Clockwork

In total, it was a disaster. A complete nightmare waiting to come alive. You could write out the script, but couldn’t edit mistakes made. Neither snowstorms came, nor tropical hurricanes blew. The air was a blazing hot, but no instrument could tell, but some intuition you had said so. You felt awake and senseless. The diversions of color and taste. There was no target in mind, no absolute hero nor villain. It was just the ticking of clockwork.