September 4th, 2002 - 11:20 a.m.

Inside and out.

The well being of the spine tends to be the general property of current events.

Outside, a colony of shiny armoured ants greedily dissect a generous pile of sugar. A mobile veil of black against the faded gray of matted dirt. Industrious, and perfect.

The piercing abilities of sharp noises. Right between the eyes.

Inside, we are soft, malliable. Missing an exoskeleton. And a solid cause. We are frantic. We are hopeful. We are terrified. Remain buoyed.

N.

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