Concentrating hard on not snapping the stick of wood gripped in his teeth, he squints at his mind and brushes aside the fog.

Don’t think, just take stock — the difference is subtle but significant.

Aims, targets, objectives … first important priorities … other points of view … plus, minus, interesting … consequences and sequence of events … alternatives, possibilities, choices … consider all factors.

Focus, don’t think — recursion is its own punishment … time wasted.

A plan of action is needed and he only has a night in which to execute it … the longest night of his life.

A multitude of options, almost overwhelming in their potential, flash through his mind … transient nodes of thought, a vapour of invention.

Focus, don’t think — drift through the gossamer of mindglowing opportunities and grab those that catch the eye … look at them later.

He ponders … aims, targets, objectives.

He nods to himself, an indeterminate wrinkling of his brow revealing nothing of his thinking.

The sky is indeterminately hued.

Staring vacantly at it a moment, he grips the stick in his teeth, crunching gently, but firmly, down … fraying the end a little.

Alternatives, possibilities, choices.

First though … important priorities.

He has things to do before a new dawn breaks.

He frowns determinedly at nothing.

Aim.

Focus.

The sky’s the limit.

Best start with a firm foundation then.

A moment changes all things … and to end is but to start.

A soft rain starts to fall.

Graffiti hazes over his vision … a middle-finger raised and poked in the eye of the beholder … adding injury to insult.

He shakes his head, scattering oniric futures into nothingness.

Now for a bridge to the sky to see what celestial apparitions lie beyond it.

People to see, things to do, the Skare Kru Kid sighs.

Time to move those feet and get ready to step the groove … fakirs and fakers await the brave and foolhardy and he has need of both.

A long night lies before him … the longest night of his life.

--

--

--

There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die.

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Where Angels Fear

Where Angels Fear

There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die.

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