Significant Yellow Item: #2021.Y004.1 (Second Encounter)

 

Significant Yellow Item: #2021.Y004.1, West Leicester, February 2021

The second manifestation took place beyond a span of lost conveyance.  Transport froze, and few now sought out this route in commerce.  The ceremonial way still glistening from within submerged shadow, but the cherished zone beyond now churned amidst massive upheaval.  The lands beyond that portal had become a disputed tract where emerging edifices vied for resident dominance.  A thousand blank eyes opened upon the world, enmeshed for now in matrices too complex for analysis.

The traditional rituals of cellulose and steel were still observed in their reeking caves - but  desperate now, and grown increasingly peripheral.  How long could such rites prevail amidst the new demographic?  Old concentrations of part-worn devotion had been cleared away, and the donor stacks demolished.  Hopes of Recovery faded as the new modes regenerated on a fresh footing.  "Be part of something new".  The sediment tower was dismantled overnight.  The vantage point was surrendered amidst snow and mud - topographical oversight suddenly denied.

In such a region, the old drift felt threatened.  Access remained conjectural.  The routes of desire were curtailed and channelled - clotted now with machine prints and threaded through a polychromatic labyrinth.  Those old reams faded amongst the fences, even though the wind still blew.  The occasional seditious exhortation was stencilled over the sanctioned scrawl.  Plywood bulletins prioritised cartoon escape, despite that small yearning for rigour amidst placatory multi-fades.  Doubtless, The Revolution would not be live-streamed.  The barricades were now reversed - and would be dismantled soon enough, in any case.  The official version  was printed elsewhere - blandly aspirational and impervious beneath a sheen of laminate. 

That this new encounter should occur in such a transactional landscape must surely have come as no surprise - even if the motives remain obscure.  Could those livid moulded grids portend a new annexation, where time is made static and crated - or else, some unplanned and unimagined egress become available?  Might fresh dreams short-circuit the new geometries?