Perpetual Motion

A single tired face stares at the quietly flickering screen of the computer monitor. Where once words flowed freely from his brain directly into the PC, he is now stumbling. The clarity of thought that once ran like a river now trickles slower than the polluted stream that runs alongside the road outside.

He sighs softly as his fingers caress the keyboard, and slowly a myriad of words form, producing sentences, the sentences expanding outwards to form paragraphs and slowly but surely the story expands. He stops typing as suddenly he started, and makes a grab for the tepid coffee standing by the side of the monitor. Grimacing as he takes a slug of the thick black liquid he slams the now empty mug down on the desk and stands up. The chair rocks backwards breifly and then falls to the floor with a loud bang. He stands, and walks slowly to the gurgling coffee machine and pours another mug of the vile black liquid.

A cough racks through his body as he gulps in the stale air of the room. With a little trepidation he sits back in front of the computer and slowly starts to concerntrate on the dancing characters before him. The words slowly morph and change, creating new sentences and thoughts that are not his own, and eventually he stops typing and just watches the ever changing screen before him, and this is what he read.

A single tired face stares at the quietly flickering screen of the computer monitor. Where once words flowed freely from his brain directly into the PC, he is now stumbling. The clarity of thought that once ran like a river......