Monday, November 12, 2007

13476 WORDS

He could hear the machine’s engine begin to whine when he got to her and without thinking pulled the cube from her head. He cut his fingers deeply on the base of the cube, and his blood mixed with the blood from the large gash in Eleanor’s neck. He realized with horror that he had been a moment too late and that the machine had already made a deep incision all of the way around her neck.

Her body hung limply against his.

“Why did you stop me?” She asked.

He stared at her in disbelief.

“I had no choice,” he said, “do you have any idea of what you are doing.”

“Of course I do,” she said, “don’t be silly.”

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What People Are Saying About the Plaza of the Mind



...[Plaza of the Mind] impressed me in its magnificent weirdness...this sorta je ne sais quoi that you find in interesting art... ...I mean that purely as a compliment!

Stefene Russell

Plaza of the Mind is a clinamen away from the holeopathic replay by the Android Meme of the old perceptual agon of electrically-programmed youth confronting the Gutenbergian Establishment. Irresistible Force meets Immovable Object.

Bob Dobbs