Somewhere Over Georgia

Fluffy clouds passed underneath like kernels of popcorn. Irregular shadows that looked like the Mandelbrot set dotted the featureless patchwork of green and brown parcels of land, interrupted by the perfect circles drawn by irrigation equipment. Highways connected distant cities like arteries, with capillaries and veins and valves all interlinked. At nighttime, the tail lights of iron-rich cars would have given the necessary red glow to the vascular system. With luck, the day would come when this sleeping giant would awaken, and move and grow with direction and clear purpose. One could hope, anyway, but until then the collective motion on the ground was but a fever dream, a menagerie of dissonance.

Mile-high thoughts for a mile-high morning. The clouds had all passed, now. It would be a warm day, making it easy to forget the gray skies of home, but not the longing for home itself. This would be a long trip.

Notes: This initially started with the goal of packing as many similes and metaphors onto the page as I could (though it seems I forgot what I was doing halfway through). I thought it might be good to get them all out of my system before jumping into my work.

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