zoos of animals for sun. morning on 3:56 eastern standard clock. chapped bulgarian lips. winter minted. time capsule time released in stomach and hatching baby seals that scream and befriend eternal killer whales. you walk through the velvet screen not seen. you’re in this next scene. this ghost posed as a teacher, I picked him up, threw him into the bleachers. gave money to charity to fund plastic heaters. she greeted me at the door. I hope you find your time well spent here, welcome to our gigantic building. my eyes communicate this possibility promises firm. then relax in hotel-like lobby sleeping for hours there under a homemade blanket. when I awake, a note is on the table for me, “please call me, I need help setting up my email.”