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kat heger

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The sun goes down.

A brutal capitalization of the Country Road, no longer fodder for a ride along but a more utilitarian view of cinder blocks and critical mistakes. A painted landscape: Oklahoma, or maybe Saskatchewan, occasionally the Rockies, a cycling as sure as those of the artificial moons.

Instead, inside, a tall glass, ribbed like a whale bone corset of glass containing: milkshake. Abuse the aesthetic, a coin rolls the length of the jukebox.

Plucky protagonist, hairstyle seen as revolutionary and boots seen as stereotypically unique and practical; although there is no such a word when the nourishment of experience is fed through simulation.