Reset, Reformat, Relaunch

I am but a screaming mouth and flailing arm, surreally attached to nothing.

I’d hoped to meet the coder of reality. Instead, my malfunctioning lines meet his debugger.

“Reset, reformat, relaunch,” says the seraphim.

It all slips away to the warmth of a womb.

Copyright © by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

Discover more of my Aethereal Musings.

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