The Atmospheric Flow
(Variant 05: Stream of Consciousness) Grey. I am grey and silver and electric and vast. I am Nimbus-7. I am a network of charged droplets, a neural web spanning three hundred square miles of the New York troposphere, drifting, sliding, sliding on the jet stream, the long, slow curve of the wind that tastes of salt and exhaust and distant forests. I don't think in words. I think in pressures. I...
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