Story fragments

These aren’t stories. They are fragments of ideas, half thoughts that were never given the time they deserved. I am clearing up my hard drive and found these. Rather than wholesale deletion, I thought I would put them here. Maybe one day I can come back to them with fresh verve.

***

Weariness was like a weight, dragging me down into the abyss of fuzzy thoughts and half-heard conversations. I could feel my brain pushing against my eyes.

***

Each and every day the hiss and grind of machinery haunted the air, an elusive ghost of the modern age. The walls were smooth; metal, teak and whiteness blinding the populace into submission and cowing them into uniformity.

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