Loner Freaks (like us)

earthy odor of confidence and poise
evaporates
cold quivering metal mind
shivers, barren
“This is the Village of the Forgotten,
The Place of Lost Places
These are Those who were Left Behind”
she squints in the light of the impending hour
as two grandfathers grind their chimes
and a voice screams from the speaker phone
her mind
now fully programmed
whispers
“Type, damn it. Type.”