Can You See This?

 

You can see us. Anyone can see us. Try as we might, though, our appearance is often deceptive. There is a barbed insight or two. Once we go into a room, the plan is torn up. We'll replace it with one from the marking tablet. Jeff is the name I was given. He doesn't look like someone who would respond to a name like that. We continue unassailed. There's a bit of a tremor but we can work with it. We'll dig up the details along with the rest. Certain kinds of spatial volumes avail themselves of high-passcode tactics. Otherwise our feet play dead in the daylight. This gives the lie to the notion which helped us to line it up. After a key is removed, I'll begin a fire in the trench. No one can be counted on to scrawl what ends up being a missing battle plan. He will bring my battery with him to the picnic. Before that I'll be going out for drinks with the deposed Chairman. That's when I'll be wondering why he gives me 'that' look when I needle him about his failed abromitorship. No one has asked if any of us are less than satisfied. People requesting transitory medication is another thing altogether.

If none of us find that we can use you in the last eighth, it will, in effect, hold our feet to a very awkward fire. Not to be outdone by the 'missus', he thinks that standing alone while pretending to wait for a non-arriving guest gives him a pathetic appeal. To the younger demos, sure, but once you ratchet up the pain level, we won't have any choice but to see to it that no one is permitted anywhere near Wanderer's Park. They've got some tough customers up there. We've been called more than once to reassure people about a vague uneasiness. When we port them into a fresher venue, all the vanishing disappears, and with it all the delayed 'thank-yous' and 'you're welcomes'. It doesn't pay to accept a benign facial signature when the readings in your own hand offer indisputable proof that a master carper fits the mold to a proverbial 'T'.

The one thing which won't see us limit our cranial impressions, is when the vaunted 'feather' is bandied about to a fare-thee-well while the rest of us are wondering if the magnets provided will keep the wires displaced through our family of origin. The older ones can expect to see a limbic fissure widen even as the soldier-of-record recedes from view. Everyone will scatter. We have the proof you said you need. You can accompany us into a training module. The slightest increase in capacity will honor your commitment to a panicked diversion. This does not bode ill for your impunity. Now you may lead your smallest hand into one of our scarpin tanks. You are made. Check.

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