I spend my Sunday evenings at the hippie compound. They're not really hippies, but there is a communal element to their domicile. They have a fire pit, and we play music. There's a matriarch who is the brains of the outfit. She asked me if I had written during the week. I mentioned the blog I wrote about William Shatner and Star Trek.
I have dreams about removing trash from the galaxy, she said.
How do you do that, I asked.
I fly from star to star and pick up the trash.
How do you get from place to place? Do you will it to happen?
She looked at me as if I were a dummy.
I compress it. I use to fly around from star to star, but I realized it would take me a million years to finish, so I compress the galaxy. It's a lot easier that way.
You mean like a digital file?
She looked at me in a confused manner. I just do it!
I have dreams about removing trash from the galaxy, she said.
How do you do that, I asked.
I fly from star to star and pick up the trash.
How do you get from place to place? Do you will it to happen?
She looked at me as if I were a dummy.
I compress it. I use to fly around from star to star, but I realized it would take me a million years to finish, so I compress the galaxy. It's a lot easier that way.
You mean like a digital file?
She looked at me in a confused manner. I just do it!
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