symbiosis of ice cracking underfoot

b's white bitch tried to hump him as they were about to leave. pool robot keeps flipping over on its back. windborne sludge is gone, but it's still artificial-blue soupy. b's pups are trained to luv only; everything else is reflex. they said it would learn the layout of the bottom with its tiny electronic brain. now i am its organic helper.

a flat tire and two weekend days slapping dirtily forward. just keeping things filtered is a heroic measure. flotsam is not sickness if you can get it off you.

some things rise to the surface but just can't pop. some people's faces look like they're bearing a high lateral wind. my decay creates homes for other creatures.