WE DO, DON'T WE, WHAT WE CAN
Tonight you are the antithesis of ductility. All the windows here are made of plastic. The watch on your wrist clicks like beetle wings. The curved plastic stems of your glasses provide a persistent pressure behind your ears. Outside you see red Mars or an Airbus. The aisle creaks under torque. The front wheels perform thankless blind discovery. The back wheels trail behind knowing their fate powerless. The engine sits heaving in the smoky dark pushing ever onward.