The U Turn 00:18

(Continuation)

Subtitle: If there were no glare on the glass

It's only a cell.

It's just a laptop.

It's a series of zeros and lines.

So why is it so damn personal?

I think I'm talking to you, and I like to think you think, I am talking to you, in near direct telepathic drive. . . why. what; how!? Fingers tapping, hanging over Illusion we happen to have in shared space floating between ghosted glass where fragments are slipping fast.

You say Fall already. It is also a beautiful time... like Nostalgia.

But I ask: what about Summer?

We've hardly began. Or is it Begun?