Image by Arturo Romo-Santillano

Image by Arturo Romo-Santillano

 

4A:

 

i was hiding from security forces official and unofficial in some leafless chinese elm type trees that were clipped and pruned to bare nubs and stumps, where presumably the nightblind forces would have difficulty locating me in spite of the lack of foliage, but the trees were crawling with fat pale ants, and the security forces trampled the terrain below in their search, radios and voices coming from all points, i thought maybe i could drop to the ground and make a run for it, that there was a border nearby for escape somehow (dont we always think that?)—(sometimes it must be true)—

 

Image by Arturo Romo-Santillano

Image by Arturo Romo-Santillano

 

6B:

walking across minimall parking lot to storefront that used to be variously (?) a curandero botanica fake doctor’s office, next door to actual doctor’s clinic of some sort, and/or “health food store” of the type mostly filled with “supplement” pill bottles, but was now vacant (probably, or partly) due to current economic disaster of economy, i walked through group of martial arts students, young people mostly hanging around the parking lot as night fell, they were chatting and smoking and waiting for what, i don’t know, mostly led, via strength of personality by late 20s tall strong woman of pronounced character, i left them all outside in the dark parking lot with traffic headlights going by the busy urban avenue, went into the empty storefront purposely (i don’t know for what purpose, but i had some purpose, that’s the way i always am, it’s a dull aspect of my personality that i always know my purpose, i go DO something)—the place was perhaps being used illicitly, but was unlocked, all fluorescent lights on doors wide open, shelving and discarded fixtures remaining everywhere, signs of recent vacancy, recent economic spiral downward, maybe i was going in to practice karate which i used to do for more than five years, but when i went in the back to check out the practice space, it was an abandoned doctors clinic full of gurneys, scopes and computer screens, beds and stools and cabinets full of doctor stuff, cartons, bottles, papers and everything in place, and a group of people had taken it over, vaguely affiliated with the martial arts group—perhaps the martial arts group was sort of a front, serving two purposes (as does everything in the world)—(to train these cadre)—because in the abandoned doctors offices a group of young anarchist computer hacktivists was attacking government and specifically pentagon and nsa computers. they were going about it all casually as if planning a picnic or setting a barbecue. they sent off some viral mechanism and waited for some sign it was breaking through the firewalls of the target. the computers abandoned by the failed doctor business began ticking with suspicious regularity, a sign something was happening. “i think it’s working,” somebody said. i didn’t think too much about who were these people, they accepted me because i was purposeful and didn;t question them and they were anyway unafraid. except that they were watching their computer screens waiting for a counter-reaction, a sign that their targets had targeted them. they casually, silently, prepared to leave at the first signal. (which might be security force vehicles roaring into the parking lot outside the back door. or more quietly, an alteration of the number pattern on the computer screen.)

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