Kind Souls for Dark Matter

Section One: Introduction - Paste-up Preface.

Kind Souls for Dark Matter
Halen Miguel | Hard Science Fiction

4/10/24 (update)

Section One: Introduction - Paste-up Preface.

Alcom Cooring:

In the prison colony there was no warden. We had set in and implaced transponders echoing out of the support by a resounding brimline cooking static electricity above us reconfiguring impromptu jazz as Morse code for the facility's communication. Only to be existent to the medical personnel and manipulated by me with copperband braces. In normalcy of conversation referred to as a bass drop remittance. I'd lift the frequency bandwidth articulated to a formal action engaged with the cook, a conductivity remote. Through the active surveillance intwined to the right passages of time with a binary imprint imparting measurement consisting of the constance of musical metric. Audio theatrics had taken form
as pressure to pressure cool downs made of concrete bridging between three by three rooms.
The humidity in a smooth degree of unnoticeable scent. Turning faucets would result in steam taking state instead of gutter water, when it's thought the drop would mean the heat would blast metal to shrapnel. The medi-made concrete abridged the ward with triage. Humidity in a degree of setting to the adjacent rooms is an uproot flow of air sparking unkempt signals through-put to an electromagnetic wavelength that could strangle my nervous system from tongue to brain with the metallic rush of zinc, copper and coin affecting my physiology. Physical fatigue to psychologically headstrung. My migraines offering up slid slots of what I thought to be myself it ended up being more than I would let myself know. Maybe I'd let my brother know if only orbital shuttles and there berth hadn't already launched. And the connection didn't die between us, didn't die the moment we beckoned to see the last mind's labyrinth. No one will know of.
Few of us had stood in front of him. "It's impossible to view your mind like the rest of us, right?" I spoke while I smoked an irregular cigarette made of entrenched spirals trying to blow vortices off the wall in the form of a jetted 'O. "Teach your brother." I kept smoking till I finally thought of something to say but before I could he remarked in deftone. "Stubborn psyche." Replying before he said anything further, "Your picking up on mine. That's good." I continue on by raising a frequency emitter to my teeth and bar emission to say, "Him, oh he's as much of a smoker as I am. At least I only smoke on the job. Close to your wounds and such. Damn, it. I want to see your clockwork orange. Spill your guts please."
It releases the surveillance system and holds the predicate in repetitious slang handling the encrypted data on my copperband attached to my steel braced teeth, my canine teeth. I start breathing unnaturally for the resonance to have a trip tone on my trip switch, "Tell me what do you think of our blind sun?" I'll wince when I don't know it and most would think less but Reverence knows more. I can't surveillance him, he did something to his blood a long time ago and now there seems to be some type of diesel in his circulatory system and I can't get a read. Despite the blocked off reptilian skin he has some dark energy overlay that's been dissipating since he said he started using it. That sounds strange to me. "The black hole coveting most of the Solaris's strawberry sunshine light." I point out,"It's raising eyes that are being targeted for reconfiguration of earth's general population." We are being fitted for loss of life. As if the good for is, collateral damage. "Your fissure is about to have a transformation only Allah and eight others have had the tenacity to read. I've been recruiting throughout the prison colony and due to the Cook's lasting statements for the ilk that desire this place only one of which I've hand selected for this exhibition will be let draw, his name is Dallah and he will do what you cannot understand." He sat glowering at the stab wounds and cuts on his forearm, right stomach then lowering his eyes to his right foot glimpsing at the bottom of it. Psyche and thought tarnished by the drenched blood on the bottom of it. Mind and psychosis locked on the instigated provocation. Grabbing me by the lab coat he says aggregiously, "There is something about the sun you haven't thought of. It can be read like an overly complicated tree being struck by lightning. Saw off the stump and you have seasons. Keep the sun in fissure and you have revolutions of the Solaris as well as star charts, meteor showers, asteroids, and newly quantified measurements of time. Astrophysics down to the inscrutable tactic of reading a full rotation from both sides of the epitomized one and off of each fish in the radiated water." He doesn't withdraw and keeps filling my head with lunacy. "When do I meet Dallah?" Thinking this is the opposite of disposition when the answer to have is not to have. "I gain an understanding, then regret the turmoil is more let draw. The phonetics to use superconductor satellites to depict apart the dimensions and sense the expiration date radically moving back and forth, up and down, side-to-side and in congruent fourth dimensional cubes for their quantified measurement of a more accurate speed of light during the collapse into night while the gleam from the surface of the crystal moves planets by dictation of gravity's waves due to newly discovered results of what's damning your sky but nobody's noticing what it's not. Pluto is up for the taking if you can smash it into Venus. Guarding the sun by omitting an enclosure of the black hole to harbour more time for pockets to become receivable sensors within ultraviolet light inside a crystal sphere undetected by the naked eye and viewable through any observatory that can analyse a fuel around the surface as well as the transparent slate that surrounds the partially empty star that's boiled into an almost perfect sphere. Glows green for the fuel someone is."