Is this the music of universal revolutions?
From an isolated piano, shouting defiance, someone is playing Chopin in the main hall. Her music offers contrast to the monotone machine Neers – who cluster like digits in a data set behind their glass display in computer lab 1130.
As thin rain ricochets off the concrete window support, a milk steamer screams a hot hissing reply to the rank and file waiting for their café delights of coffee, cocoa and sugar. Warm banana muffins, wrapped in clingy plastic.
Multi-faced people inhabit the furniture; fadelessly consuming everything Kelly has to offer as the sunlight moves up one side of the terrarium and down the other.
Someone was here before, and others will come after to fill the empty.
Change changes nothing but perception. It is pebbles tossed into a giant sea of cells, where the pebbles are cells, and the cells – mutable ripples in the sea.