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In a previous life, I toiled in the very pits of hell. imprisoned on all sides by tan walls of groaning fury. Moving, shifting, threatening at every second to wash over my head and bury my tired soul forever.
In the air, the stinging acrid smell of rubber belts spinning on an on in endlessly futility was mixed with that of burning plastic from electric motors, and amidst the heaving dust cloud of swirling popcorn pieces and god know what else I could barely view the scanner in the distance, just past my face.
This assault on the last of my olfactory senses was only enhanced by the tormenting howls of objects crushing all around. I paused, just for a stolen moment, and realized I was amidst the hopes and dreams of so many souls, soon to be lost with the tides of destruction. Books. Photos. Treasures. The last rifle or known dashboard in existence and hope to complete the project of a lifetime.
All cherished possessions. All soon to be gone.
With a loud pop of some unknown object being crushed out of existence, I suddenly found myself jolted awake again, and turned my broken body towards the wall. Somewhere inside that heaving mass of destruction was another tear.
The wall was me.
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