Zynode

I sit here, alone watching through the frosted glass. The bench is hard and uncomfortable while my pad and pen sit in my hands impatient. I see her on the other side creating such rich images, sunbursts of creativity. Warm rich colors draw the eye while highlights of cold streak across the canvas. I see her smile, the way she loses herself in her work, enraptured by its creation. I look down at the few scribbles and words. She moves with an ethereal grace, the brush stroking the canvas like a man slowing dragging his fingers over his lover's skin. Inside she is a ray of light, making a world alive and beautiful. Outside I sit, cold and sad. M

They sat there, gleaming in the midday sun. The crown jewels of Nanovore Industries Waste Refinement Center. The fat ovular gems jutting up into the skyline. They were called digester eggs and housed trillions of bacteria. Each was about ten stories high all grouped together in a block. There were eight of them, all shining a pale violet from the  sun's refraction.  Thier job was simple, process the sludge of organic waste into methene gas. The gas would be used for power and heating the eggs to a warm 98 degrees. It was old technology but effective and still considered practical enought to keep around. I always did enjoy looking at them. Som